WHAT. THE FUCK.

We chased it around the bathroom and it ran up into our cabinet under the sink. We told our landlady and she was all, “WHAT.” We share half a house with her so naturally she’d be concerned! The weird thing is that we never saw evidence of rats/mice. At our last place we’d see rats running across the power lines. I’d even seen a rat or 2 running across the balcony rail. And I’d seen some paper chewed in a cabinet we hardly went in. But we never saw rats/mice nor did they get into our food. So, no harm done.

Here? No chewed stuff, no droppings, nothing. Then BAM! RAT! (Rat is such a dirty word. I even called it a mouse because I was in denial. But a 6″ body is pretty much a rat. I did some research and it looks like he was either a Norway rat or a black rat (which may not always be black).)

So I hoped it was a fluke. You know, maybe he was lost.

About a week went by. We even had houseguests and there were no incidents. Not to say we weren’t paranoid. A few days ago, the lid to Dave’s water bottle dropped and rolled across the floor. I saw it out of the corner of my eye and jumped back about 5 feet. Then laughed. Tonight Dave was cleaning the kitchen and got some water on the floor and the movement in the reflection of the water made him freak out, thinking it was a rat.

Then today I went into the bathroom closet to get the laundry out of the hamper and the rat RAN OUT OF THE HAMPER. Oh yes, I screamed. Ike came running in to see what the commotion was about. He chased the rat into the bedroom. At which point I was like, OMG if there’s a rat in my bedroom I’m getting a hotel. (My landlady said later, “And I would have paid for it.”) Ike then chased the rat into my closet. Actually, “chased” is giving him too much credit. He really just curiously and quickly followed it. And I didn’t actually want him to catch it because the last thing I wanted was for Ike to get rabies!

Not knowing what to do, I took my shoes out one by one. Then I came up with the grand master plan of catching him under a plastic salad bowl. So I had the bowl ready for when I got all the shoes/suitcase/purses out of the closet and he had nowhere to hide.

I tried to cover him a few times but those damn rats are agile! But I was like, “I can be patient, mister, you’re not going anywhere.” Except then he jumped up and caught hold of one of my long skirts hanging from the rack and shimmied up it.

Ughhhhhh, gives me goosebumps just thinking about it and I wasn’t even wearing it!

I tried to beat the clothes with a broom, but it was hopeless, so I dropped the clothes to the floor and he ran away. Ike and I chased him but he’s faster and ended up hiding under our tv stand. This whole time, my heart was beating so loud I could hear it clearly. And in chasing him, I’d managed to pull my right quad somehow, maybe jumping over something while wearing heels?

If what you’re picturing is something like Paranormal Activity, but with a rat instead of an evil spirit and an iggy instead of a boyfriend, and funny instead of scary? Then yeah, you’re picturing this right.

But at this point it was 6:30 and I needed to get to an art supply store by 7. I kept all the lights on (so Mr. Rat wouldn’t get comfortable) and left. I couldn’t find my keys so I grabbed Dave’s. While I was at the store, Dave called.

“Where are you?”

“I took Ike and I’m at the art supply store. They close at 7.”

“Oh . . . what the fuck happened here? Your car keys are here . . .”

Long story short, Mr. Rat was still under the TV stand when we got home and Dave got him out and he escaped the same way as last time, through the bathroom cabinet. Dave checked it out and found the hole that was his entrance. Dave and our landlady covered it up with a rag and duct tape (which he’ll probably chew through in about 5 . . . 4 . . . 3) and tomorrow they’ll spray that foam stuff in there.

Will let you know what happens. Ughh.

I already mentioned that I read the Michael Pollan book, I also read Three Cups of Tea around the same time. Both SO GOOD. A coworker gave me Stones Into Schools, the next Greg Mortenson book. But I was like, I need a break. So I went to the library and got 4 books that were pure candy. And I finished them and looked up and I’d only blogged once this month. HUH.

Sorry, guys.

I guess blogging and reading are the same type of therapeutic for me.

And I have no real way to contextually add this next bit since I don’t really write about anything of global importance on this blog, but I’m gonna tie it in by saying that I was reading books and this quote? Also from a book. I recently read a book by my favorite author, Paulo Coelho, called The Winner Stands Alone. In it, one of the characters is complaining about politicians and their “environmental stance.” For whatever reason it’s stuck with me.

” ‘How can we be so arrogant? The planet is, was, and always will be stronger than us. We can’t destroy it; if we overstep the mark, the planet will simply erase us from its surface and carry on existing. Why don’t they start talking about not letting the planet destroy us?

Because ’saving the planet’ gives us a sense of power, action, and nobility. Whereas ‘not letting the planet destroy us‘ might lead to feelings of despair and impotence, and to a realization of just how very limited our capabilities are.’ “

It actually gives me a sense of relief, knowing that the planet can wipe us clean. And that we’d have deserved it. I know that sounds crazy but that’s the flavor of my personal faith.

I have more to write but we have houseguests and they just woke up. More later!

I recently read a book that I thoroughly enjoyed. Like, reading entire sections aloud to my husband and then shipping it to Dallas for my parents to read. It’s this book:

And I agreed with everything! Yes, “food” with packages that make health claims IS stupid! No, you should not get your “food” from the same place your car gets fuel! No, don’t eat meals at your desk! Yes, I think unnaturally flavored and colored foods are stupid, too!

And I felt good after reading it. I DO eat whole foods. Especially lately. I’ve been combing cookbooks and making recipes from just vegetables and grains (and nuts and oils, etc.). I made green Thai curry, for crying out loud. We’ve been trying to “shop the perimeter” of the store, buying fresh foods and bulk items, as opposed to frozen ravioli and jarred tomato sauce. We always buy whole grain bread with no preservatives.

So yay! I’m healthy! Granted, I could be healthier, but who couldn’t? What’s a little bit of cheese pizza or a truffle oil grilled cheese sandwich when it’s organic cheese and whole grain bread? I mean, seriously?

Also, my parents recently gave us their Vita-Mix. Those things are awesome! I was scared at first, but then Dave bought a few bags of frozen fruit. So I started making Jamba Juice style smoothies: frozen mango, pineapple and peach with vanilla yogurt and rice milk. Then I branched out and my current favorite breakfast is 2 clementines, 1 apple, 1 pear, 1 carrot, 5-10 grapes, 1 tbsp of dry oats, a bit of parsley, a 1/2″ of fresh ginger and a kale leaf. And apple juice so it’s juicy. Blend until smooth! It’s ugly but I love it. How healthy do I feel eating all that for breakfast every morning? VERY.

At this same time, my company released that they were going to do an incentive program. (FYI, I DO want to keep my work and blog separate, even though those taboos are mostly gone now, I don’t want to risk it. Not that I’m being secretive, you can google this stuff.) We already get a discount, my company is just offering a greater discount if you’re in good health. I was excited! I read the negative things on various blogs, how angry people are, how BMIs are racist, how it’s oppression and not an incentive, etc. And yeah, maybe, but on the other hand DISCOUNT!

So today was the biometric screening. I was excited because I knew I was golden in 3 out of the 4 categories. The only one I was worried about was my cholesterol, because my parents have high cholesterol and I’ve never had it tested. My blood pressure ended up being higher than normal, but DUH, 10% of a discount was riding on this! Of course I was stressed!  So I was ready to settle for the 3rd-best category, but then I got my cholesterol results and they were sky-high. (NOTE: My total cholesterol is actually in the “borderline” category according to WebMD and my HDL is awesome and my LDL is in the best category.) Like, I was getting no additional anything. I was one of the ones for whom this would actually be an “incentive” program.

Except . . . incentive to do what, exactly? I’ve been pescatarian for 7 years, with the occasional piece of bacon. I’ve been doing yoga for 10. We’ve switched to rice milk and honestly we don’t eat THAT much cheese or eggs. I think we keep Parm and cheddar in the house, but during the week, unless a recipe calls for it, I pretty much don’t eat eggs or cheese. It’s heredity and I think the last thing my company intended is me to do is get on daily medication.

My coworker texted me tonight and asked, “Well how is it an incentive if you can’t reduce it annually by diet/exercise alone?”

And that’s what’s been bugging me all day. I went to the trusty internet to find ways to lower cholesterol. And it suggests I start doing cardio a few times a week. And that I try to eat healthier, cut back on trans fats. And that I lose weight. And I suggested that the internet go fuck itself.

Because here’s the real issue: I could be healthier. Dave and I went to a vegetarian restaurant in Houston and all of our friends got the veggie platters (sauteed veggies, rice, beans, salad, tofu patties) and me and Dave? We got the vegan chopped “brisket” sandwich and fries. Um, healthy FAIL. We get lazy and cook baked potatoes for dinner loaded with every dairy product imaginable. I just don’t want to be healthier. My diet is just what I want it to be. It’s got its healthy bits and then its got its tasty bits.

And I have started doing yoga again. For 2 weeks my alarm has been going off at 6:15am so I can get up and do yoga. The first week was hard and I only had 2 full “classes” (podcasts) but I at least did some yoga every morning, even if it was only for 10 minutes. Last week started off well, but then I got my period and traded the my yoga mat for a heating pad the remaining mornings. But let’s be real, I haven’t gotten up to the 3 1-hr yoga sessions (and 2 30-minute ones) that I want to do per week.

So let’s say I do that. And that I acquire the magic necessary to cut out the remaining dairy items from my diet. And stop considering P. Terry’s to be a relatively healthy, quick, cheap alternative to cooking dinner. And stop dipping my fries in mayonnaise when we do eat out. And maybe skipping the chips and salsa? Oh god. And running with Ike more than once every month? Anyway, let’s say I do all that and if my cholesterol is still high? Or even if it’s lower but too high to qualify for an additional discount?

Then I have to face 1 of 2 realities that I’m not excited about. 1. My company is wrong and I can’t defend its choices. (This sounds small, but the reason I came to work here 3.5 years ago is because I so wanted to work for a company whose principles I believe in.) And I’m as healthy as I’m gonna be and I’m just going to spend more than someone with “better” biometrics.  2. I’m actually unhealthy and need to make permanent changes in order to have a healthier life.

Guess I’ll be letting you know!

I didn’t know what the office tradition was regarding holiday gifts on my team. The entire office had a Christmas party and we did a white elephant gift exchange. I chose a Dog Snuggie but it was stolen from me by a big jerk (not bitter) but the plus side is that I got to steal this, which is an amazing, amazing book. Yay, education! Anyway, that was for the whole office, not my little team. And I hate the feeling of someone getting you a christmas present and you’re like, “Shit! I mean, wow, thank you!” because they weren’t even ON your Christmas list.

So to avoid THAT happening, I decided to make truffles. I cut a magazine recipe out and saved it for, I don’t know, maybe a year. It was called DIY Truffles. And basically you melt chocolate and butter (I think) and then add flavor (peppermint oil, rum, espresso powder) and then roll it into a ball and roll that ball into a topping (chopped hazelnuts, crushed peppermint sticks, etc.) and ta da! Truffles. So I was like, “That sounds easy enough.”

I ordered truffle boxes online, bought candy papers at Michaels and planned to use leftover Martha Stewart silver ribbon to wrap them with. Leftover from what, you ask? Oh, by the way, I sewed us matching Christmas stockings this year!

I was looking for well-designed stockings and um, there ARE none. In the world. Well, that’s not true. I found a few cute ones on Etsy, but even Etsy had plenty of ugly ones. The cute ones I found sold out right after I decided I wanted them. So I took her idea and made gray and white felt stockings. They were fun. Dave had never had a stocking in his life (cultural difference!) and didn’t see the point. Until I filled it with chocolate bars on Christmas Eve. Dave stuffed mine with the entire Whole Foods Whole Body department, or at least most of it: yummy kids’ vitamins, coconut lip balm, locally made lotion, soap, etc. Ike, of course, got treats.

But back to the truffles for coworkers. Those same coworkers are obsessed with a book called Baked. I had borrowed it for some reason or another and turns out, they have a truffle recipe. A THREE-PAGE truffle recipe. Plus, a separate page with a description on how to temper chocolate. This recipe called for heavy cream and various other ingredients based on the truffle flavor. I decided to do 2 flavors: one using Paula’s Texas Orange (because I don’t like rum) and another with cayenne (because I do like spicy chocolate!) And of course, decided to not be daunted by complicated recipes that call for candy thermometers. Screw the easy way!

SO. I chopped a bunch of chocolate, mixed it with cream (and whatever else, the recipe is at work, sorry) and then let it set in the fridge.

Then I rolled it into balls.

Then I let them sit in the fridge for a few days until I was ready to temper the chocolate, a process which pretty much made me want to kill someone. Basically, you melt 3/4 of the chocolate you need in a metal bowl over a pot of water that has come to a boil, then been removed from the heat. You add the remaining chocolate and stir the chocolate until it melts. You remove the bowl from the heat and then stir with a spoon until you want to die. And then? Keep stirring until you ACTUALLY die. Or until the chocolate reaches 88°F, whichever comes first. When the chocolate coats the back of a spoon and is hard and shiny, not cloudy or streaked, then it’s ready for dipping. (There are actual chemical reasons for all of this, none of which I care about.) Then use a fondue fork to dip the truffles that have been in the freezer for 20 minutes* into the melted chocolate mixture.

This process took me forever to figure out. I stirred and stirred and stirred and the damn chocolate WOULD NOT HARDEN on the spoon. Until it did. Then I started dipping truffles and then the dipping chocolate got hard and I had to remelt the chocolate and stir and stir and stir until I was like, “FUCK THIS, THIS IS THE WORST IDEA I HAVE EVER HAD. NEXT TIME I AM USING MAGIC SHELL.” But I was almost done.

I ended up deciding that tempering chocolate is a joke. A thermometer, really? What they really mean is that you shouldn’t heat the chocolate up too much, and then you should dip your truffles before it hardens. That’s it. I am probably wrong and chocolate is probably more complex, but whatevs.

At any rate, after I dipped the truffles into the chocolate, I rolled them in a coating while they were still wet. Powdered sugar for the “orange” ones which unfortunately didn’t actually taste like orange; I probably should have used orange zest, too.I referred to them as the “plain” ones. And cane sugar + cocoa powder for the cayenne truffles. They ended up being too big for the truffle boxes I bought so I arranged them all on a plate. I WAS able to fit some of the smaller ones into boxes for our landlady and Dave’s boss. So here’s the final product.

They ended up being delicious and having that hard chocolate shell was perfect since the inside was so gooey and rich. I’ll probably try them again now that I’ve done it and don’t fear the tempering chocolate thing. Maybe try new flavors: lavender, basil, lime, etc. I bet I could heat the cream with those flavors, the same way you do with ice cream. Anyway, there you have it! Crossing it off the life list…

*Well, the truffles would NORMALLY sit in the freezer for 20 minutes, unless it takes you 2.5 hours to temper chocolate.

People at work were talking about whether or not they needed one. People on twitter were complaining that it’s not a netbook. People on facebook were like, “Well, I have a laptop and an iPhone, so this seems stupid.”

NOT TO ME!

Reasons Dave and I need iPads:

1. After work, I pretty much only use Google Chrome, Tweetie and Mail. I read my blogs on Google reader, check facebook, maybe write a blog post, do general surfing, check twitter, and maybe reply to some e-mails. I could do all of that just fine on an iPad.

2. With my current job, I’m traveling a bit more. So the wireless access and ability to read a book when/wherever would be awesome.

3. Dave’s parents don’t have the internets and we always bring down the laptop but it’s basically a glorified photo viewer at their house. With the iPad we could show his parents pictures of Dave’s cousins on facebook in Mexico, etc. We could watch videos/movies/tv, etc.

4. We could watch movies on road trips!

That’s pretty much it. If we both had one, we could use the MacBook we “share” (we would share it if I didn’t have a laptop from work) as home base for backup, software updates, light design work, etc.

It remains to be seen if it can multitask, which the iPhone can’t do unless you unlock it. Because that could be a dealbreaker.

Is it necessary? Absolutely not. But 9 years ago I’d have said the same thing about an iPod.

UPDATE: I also need the Steve Jobs Face app:

I’ve been wanting to find a good studio, but do you know how frustrating it is to try and find a good instructor? In a new (to me) city? Hell, it was hard for me in an old (to me) city. And with my current work schedule of leaving between 5 and 6:30 every day and a dog whose bladder reaches its limit at about 5:15, class after work was out of the question. Class before work seemed doable, but I hadn’t really looked into it. I just didn’t feel like paying $100/month for yoga classes. I know that’s selfish but I got to go to Paul’s class for free in exchange for a few hours of bookkeeping every week. THAT was a good deal!

Enter technology. We finally got cable television and actual not-stealing-from-landlady internet last week. So while it’s brought some not-so-nice things into our lives (“I’m Pregnant and Homeless”- REAL SHOW and The Dish [really, Topanga?]) it’s also allowed me to download tons of yoga podcasts off the internet. I was skeptical that I could follow an audio class but decided I had nothing to lose.

And it’s great! I did a super easy 25 minute class yesterday and today’s was more challenging. And I even liked the instructor. While she does dip into the part of yoga I’m not crazy about (the spirituality, seriously, that’s not where I want my spirituality from, don’t tell me how to feel) she does have excellent aligning tips. I want to do a few more classes of hers before I go recommending them. I also downloaded 3 different podcasts, so I’ll probably be never getting around to writing a full review later.

I’m not used to 6am yoga (I’m up past my new bedtime, btw) and getting gradually sorer throughout the day. But I like it. So it’s only Day 2 but I’m planning to do between 30 and 90 minutes of podcasted yoga every weekday morning. I’m off on the weekends (plus that’s when I like to take Ike trail running).

Oh, this also helps me achieve one of my life list goals, which is to do the splits. I found a podcast that spends 30 minutes getting you ready for the splits. Yes sir!!

So I didn’t but I decided it was The Year of the Civic. I needed new brakes, new shocks and I hadn’t waxed her by hand in . . . at least 3 years? And she’s never been detailed and with this dog there’s fur in places I can’t reach. Plus there’s this bit about the radio. I still haven’t replaced it. I got the insurance check and then shrugged. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to get a new radio put in. I don’t really even think about it anymore. Which is a drastic change from 2008 when the missing radio was enough to drive me mad.

We’ve even taken 4 minor road trips since the radio was stolen and it’s no big deal. We just talk. Or sleep. Or listen to headphones.

Anyway, my car might be due for new tires or at the very least is overdue for a tire rotation. So with all of that, I knew it was the year to show my Civic some love. (Plus, she turns 10 this year!)

Dave took her to work last week because we were supposed to have the coldest weather ever and he doesn’t need to be biking in 20-degree weather. And he asked a mechanic about my brakes. Even though I’ve only gotten them replaced ONCE in her lifetime (and that was front-only) apparently my brakes are fine, I just needed brake fluid. On the way to pick me up, my radiator cap broke and we had to make an emergency trip to Auto Zone (btw, think there’s a relationship between the median income of a neighborhood and its proximity to an Auto Zone? Just asking.). $12 later, with a new radiator cap and some fresh brake fluid, the Civic was much happier.

So it looks like the universe thinks it’s the Year of the Civic, too.

New Year’s Eve I worked half a day and prepared to drive to Houston and was exhausted at the idea of going out for New Year’s not to mention the idea of just staying up until midnight. But I showered and rocked my sparkle fishnet thigh highs and put on fun eye makeup (aka, more than the neutral shadow + mascara that I normally wear) and went to meet our friends. From there Johanna and I went up to Boheme to see one of her friends who was DJ-ing. We stayed there for an hour and went back to our friends’ house for the midnight countdown. Then we heard that my favorite bar was not crowded so we ended the night there.

Nooooo we didn’t. We went out for Mexican food, THEN we ended the night.

The next day was a small casual brunch at Neha’s, to which our hungover asses showed up a good 40 minutes late. And I decided to make a quiche, just to add to the muffins, yogurt parfait, fruit, cheese, and blueberry cream cheese french toast that Neha had for us. So we ate until we were full as ticks, then rested, then more visiting friends.

And I admitted what I’ve been afraid to admit to even myself: I miss Houston. It’s possible that what I miss is friends, people to text and be like, “Hey, mind if we drop by and see your new baby?” “Hey, what are y’all doing later?” “Hey, want to meet up for coffee?” And if so? Well, then I miss that.

I realized that I felt like if I admitted to missing Houston, I’d feel like a failure. People in Houston LOVE Austin. People everywhere love Austin. Going to Austin is like going to Mecca. It’s where you go when you want to party it up for New Year’s or Halloween (both of which my boss refers to as “amateur night”) or any old time. You want a break from the same old? Go to Austin, eat tacos from an airstream, go hiking in the morning, take a dip in a spring fed pool in the afternoon and end the evening at any number of bars. The next morning you want vegan pancakes? Sure, which place do you want to eat them at?

What’s not to love?

Well. I’ll tell you. First, everyone’s white. Not REALLY, but it feels like it. We live in a neighborhood that’s about half black, but it’s not the same. In Houston, say there’s a hot new restaurant or bar. When you go you see people of every ethnicity and class. Seriously. In Austin? You go to a hot new restaurant and everyone’s white and mid/upper class. A few weeks ago I was at the mall and saw some brown guys and ALMOST SAID HI. Like we were kindred spirits living in this foreign land of white people.

Also? The weather app on my phone will say rain for Austin and then this cold front blows through and skips the whole rain part. Unlike Houston, which will have sun predicted and then pour down rain on your picnic. But not at your house 5 blocks away. It sounds silly, but I miss rain and humidity and clouds and 10 degrees warmer (except in July, when what I will miss is that it will be 10 degrees cooler in Houston).

I miss good Vietnamese food at every corner.

I miss good Indian vegetarian buffets. And being able to go next door and buy sari scraps and incense.

I miss the midwife clinic I’d picked out to have my future kids at because they were close and my insurance covered it and they were AWESOME and have delivered 3 of my friends’ babies. I’m sure there is some similar thing in Austin, there HAS to be, but I haven’t found it.

But yeah, mostly, I miss the friends, the people to enjoy all that stuff with.

If only I could take the scenery of Austin and move it into Montrose*, we’d be good. Oh and my job. Oh and this place.

*NOTE: When I refer to “Houston” I am referring to Montrose, NOT Clear Lake or The Woodlands or Sugar Land or anywhere outside of the Loop, with the tiny exception of Hillcroft where you can get the best Indian food in the city.

**DISCLAIMER: It’s completely possible Austin has a kick ass vegetarian Indian buffet, or any of the other things I mentioned and I just haven’t been there long enough to find them. Ditto for the friends.

1. The door should not hit the toilet when I open it.

2. My knees should not hit the door when I sit down.

3. There should ALWAYS be a purse hook. In malls and airports there should also be a shelf.

4. Ideally, you’ll have enough room to design it without entrance/exit doors so I don’t have to touch them.

5. If there is a door, there should be a trash can by the door so I can open the door with a paper towel and dispose of it right there.

6. The gap between the door and the post should not be big enough to see what the person inside is doing.

7. Likewise, and this really isn’t important, but I feel weird when my head is taller than the top of the door.

8. The toilet paper dispenser should be installed in a place that doesn’t make me sit crooked on the toilet to avoid hitting it.

9. The toilet’s flush should not be so powerful that it SPLASHES when I flush, for crying out loud.

10. I’m a fan of disposable seat covers, or even those seat wipes they have at the new Buc-ee’s.

All right, there you have it. Happy designing!

No?

Okay. Here goes the first one.

Every Thanksgiving my workplace has a giant semi-potluck dinner for the whole office. (“Semi” because the main dishes are catered, the office brings sides and dessert.) And I thought, WOW, what a great time for me to attempt my Bleu Cheesecake that I’ve been wanting to make. But I can’t just bring a bleu cheesecake, I mean, it’s got to feed everyone. So I should do 60 mini-cheesecakes. Plus the poached pears in port wine reduction sauce to serve on the side.

So in case it sounds crazy to anyone else out there to attempt a new recipe on new cookware (that we had to drive to 5 places to get – Sur la Table is still the only place I’ve ever seen it) in an oven in a new apartment for new coworkers, oh and triple the recipe? Maybe you’re new to my blog. Because THIS IS HOW I ROLL.

Also, maybe you haven’t met my dad.

So I searched online for a recipe I wanted to try and found a few that I liked. Specifically, this one and other ones I can’t find. I picked and chose between recipes and ended up doing a graham cracker/walnut crust and using a mixture of “cheap” blue cheese from Whole Foods (aka $7 per pound, not $40) and the Rogue Creamery Anniversary Blue (plus the other ingredients).

In retrospect I should have bought 2 pans, but I’m cheap and only bought one. ONE pan that makes 12 mini-cheesecakes. And I wanted to make 60. So we spent all Sunday afternoon making these stupid things. We didn’t have my parents’ Vita-Mix yet, so we had to chop a TON of walnuts for the crust. Ain’t fun, btw. And then we made the filling. Some recipes like to leave the chunks of bleu in the cheesecake mixture. I wanted a smooth blended flavor. Loaded a pan of 12, put them in the oven, then waited. When they were ready, we let them cool, then unloaded them and did it all over again.

On the last batch, I was afraid the oven might be getting too hot so I lowered the heat. (It’s gas and I don’t think it adjusts itself, it’s not fancy.) While all of this was happening, I started the port reduction and followed the directions for poaching pears.

The end result? Somehow terrible. The cheesecakes were extremely salty for some reason (I did add Himalayan sea salt because I wanted them to be savory, but I stuck to the recipe) and the port didn’t reduce enough and the pears didn’t cook through but I didn’t notice until later. So I had 50+ mini-cheesecakes that I wasn’t going to bring to anybody.

We kept them in the fridge and on a whim the next day I tried one of the lighter-colored ones from the last batch. (Most of the cheesecakes had kind of boiled up and sunk during cooking and left giant brown splotches.) It was delicious.

So I brought them to work for just my team on the day AFTER our Thanksgiving meal. And everyone liked them. I took no pictures and didn’t even write about it because it was so stressful and the end result so disappointing. But there it is.

I now have a mini cheesecake pan and maybe I’ll play with different cheesecakes. Chocolate, another blue, vegan, etc.

Stay tuned for Part II, wherein I never want to eat chocolate again. Until the next day.