I was introduced to the fun and slightly violent craft of needle felting while sitting around a craft fair last November.  My friend Julie is an expert knitter/crafter and had made all sorts of fabulous felted wool creations, like beer koozies (sorry- beverage jackets), warm-as-all-heck mittens, purses, etc.  She was gussying up some koozies with adorable felted wool polka dots and gave me a quick lesson.  Who knew there was a craft that involves repeatedly stabbing a needle into fabric until you have miraculously merged the two fibers into one, all while working out your pent up aggression.  I was sold! 

All you need is some fiber- I bartered for some gorgeous hand dyed local wool rovings from Descansamos Fibers in Wells, VT, a felting needle, a sponge (to protect your hand from your other hand’s violent jabbing), and something you want to decorate.

Place the sponge under the surface you’re working on, tear off a little bit of colored wool, and start stabbing your needle through it.

Stab, stab stab, think about that angry client that called earlier, stab, stab, stab, voila! A lovely little pink heart in the palm of your wool mitten!  Or initials on your beer koozie!  I’ve just dipped my toe into the world of needle felting and have a lot of practice ahead to perfect my technique.  I have a sneaking suspicion that little woolly embellishments might start showing up all over the house.  Now if only I were a better knitter!

I recently found myself faced with half a crate of clementines that were ripe to be consumed and a beckoning bottle of Highland Harvest Organic Scotch Whisky.  What to do but throw together an infusion to warm those cold winter nights ahead.

Slice a bunch of clementine (or any other) oranges and fill your mason jars about 2/3 full of fruit.  I made three batches, one with oranges and whole cloves (about 6 cloves); one with oranges and two cinnamon sticks; and one with oranges, about 4 cloves and one cinnamon stick.  Seal your jars and let them steep in a cool dark spot for several days.  Invert the bottles daily to move the liquid around the fruit, and start tasting after a few days.  I let these infuse for about a week and a half, and they were spicy and orange-scented when complete.

Once fully steeped, strain your infusion through a fine metal strainer lined with a couple layers of cheesecloth, and store in clean mason jars.  I plan to give these as Christmas presents to my dad and brother.  Hopefully, they’ll want to perform a taste taste with me on Christmas Eve!

Check out this recipe, as well as lots of other delicious organic cocktail ideas at PouredPure.com.

On a recent trek to our local dollar store I was excited to find beautiful spools of fuchsia and red velvet ribbon.  For a dollar each I just about bought out the supply.  I figured they’d really class up my gift wrap, and I could probably think of some fun craft for them.  I decided to try my hand at sewing ribbon flower brooches.  My sewing skills, as you may know, are pretty amateur, but this seemed like it might be within my grasp. 

I trolled the internet for some instructions and settled on  a thick carnation/cabbage rose looking flower.  Here’s how I made these beauties:

1. Cut your ribbon to length.  For the large flowers I used about 1.5 yards.  For the small roses, I used about 30″ lengths.

2. Sew a running stitch along one edge of your ribbon following its entire length.  This was pretty tedious and involved some stab wounds, so I switched to sewing the ribbon into a ruffle on my sewing machine for my smaller flowers.

3. Start coiling your ruffled ribbon around itself, velvet side towards the interior of the flower.  I stitched straight through the bundle in a star pattern until it was too thick to penetrate, then I stitched the outer ring to the inner rings at regular intervals as I coiled.  All your stitches will be covered by a felt back, so don’t worry too much how they look.

4.  Cut out a felt circle slightly larger in diameter than the base of your rose.  Cut a strip of felt the length of your felt circle (this will hold your brooch pin or barrette in place).

5. Sew the felt layers onto the back of your flower using a whip stitch (or whatever stitch you prefer.)  You can use this felt slot to attach a barrette, pin, or to slide the rosette over a headband.

Voila!

For the bead-centered brooch, I sewed two single, ruffled ribbon rounds from each of my ribbon colors.  I sewed the narrower fuchsia round on top of the red round.  I knotted a short length of ribbon and pushed the knot into the center of the two circles, stitching it to the back of the rosette.  I used fine gauge wire to make a few bead tipped “stamen” and twisted them around the ribbon center.  Then I hot glued beads onto the knot to hide it and the wire.  I attached a felt back just like in steps 4 & 5 above.

I found the directions for these ornaments from  Martha and you can check out her fancy pictures and instructions here.  You can also print out her bird templates here.  My easy breezy instructions for making these adorable little critters are as follows:

1. Make your templates: I printed them at about 140% size, traced them on to card stock and cut them out.  (For reference, my cardinal is about 3.5″ tall.)

2. Make your dough: combine 1c cinnamon with 1/4c applesauce.  Stir in 1/2c craft glue and let it rest for one hour.  (I covered with plastic wrap, as I was a little worried about it drying out.  That may not be necessary, but it didn’t hurt.)

3. Cut out your birds: I had to knead the dough for a couple minutes to achieve a smooth consistency.  Then I worked on one quarter of the total batch at a time. Roll the dough on a cutting board to about 1/4″ thickness.  Place your template on the dough and use an exacto knife to cut out your shape.  Poke a hanging hole using a straw (or if you’re like me and don’t have a straw lying around, you can disassemble a pen and use that.)

4.  Dry them out: Transfer your birds to a couple baking sheets and dry in a low temp oven for a couple hours.  I set the oven to 195 and flipped them over after one hour.  You can also dry them on wire racks for 24 hours, flipping every few hours, but who has the patience for that?

5.   Bedazzle time! Gather your glitter, seed beads, micro beads, glue, bowls, spoons and toothpicks.  Following the color blocks indicated on Martha’s template, I started gluing and glittering one color section at a time.  You want to make sure each section dries about 30 minutes before applying a different color, so work your way through all the birds, then start again with your next color.  I used a toothpick to achieve any fine details, otherwise the nozzle on my craft glue worked just fine. I would recommend locking away any helpful cats or other pets during this process.  I had one glitter-footed kitty before I was through.

6. String ‘em up: Tie fine ribbon in a loop through the hole and enjoy your birds!  Hopefully they’ll be a hit at the market this weekend.

UPDATE: I enjoyed making these birds so much that I tackled some deer.  Hunting season is almost over, but these little guys are too cute to shoot.

With living space enough to finally rescue my sewing machine from storage, I’ve been tackling some quick and easy sewing projects.  I still have much to learn, but pillows, simple slipcovers and clothing repairs are starting to show me the ropes.  For a friend’s recent birthday, I decided I’d combine my new enthusiasm for fabric with one of her great loves- panda bears.

This panda pillow was fast and easy to put together and pretty adorable.  Here’s what you’ll need:

White fabric

Black fabric like felt of fleece, something that will resist fraying when cut

Black and white thread

Straight pins

Scrap paper

Fabric scissors

Pillow stuffing

1. Trace and cut two matching rounds of white fabric.  They should be about an inch larger than you want your finished pillow.  (I used an old lampshade- whatever works, right?)

2.  Cut out a couple kidney-shaped templates from paper.  Trim them until you have a panda eye patch proportion that makes you happy and cut out a small round hole in each one for the eye.  Cut out a rounded-edge triangle for the nose and a half round for the ear template.

3.  Once you’re happy with your test paper patterns, use them to cut out your black fabric.  I used some soft micro fleece.  Two eye kidneys, one triangle nose, and four half round black ears.

4.  Pin your eye patches and nose onto one of the white fabric rounds.  At this point in the project, your cat might want to come help you.  My cat is so helpful during sewing crafts.

5.  Using black thread, sew the eye patches and nose onto your white round.  I did a simple straight stitch about 1/4″ from the perimeter of each piece.  Next sew your two ears together along the rounded edge, flip them inside out and stuff with some batting.  Sew the flat bottoms closed.  You’ll have two little puffy ears.

6.  Set your machine to the zigzag stitch and make a straight line down from your upside down triangle nose.  I made the line about as long as the nose is high.

7.  Now place your two white rounds together with the finished side facing in.  Put your ears where you want them, round parts facing in, straight side running along the edge of the white fabric.  (See image below.)  Pin your circle together and your ears in place.

8.  With white thread, sew around the perimeter of your pillow using a straight stitch, leaving about a 4″ opening at the bottom.

9.  Turn your pillow right-side out and start stuffing.  Of course, a panda pillow should be pretty fat and roly poly.

10.  Using your sewing machine or a needle and thread stitch the  stuffing hole closed.

Voila you have a cute little panda pillow to cuddle!

Sarah recently came home with a lovely antique mahogany bedframe, with beautifully turned bobbin motifs. It was a great score, the problem was that it was a 3/4 bed frame. Though no longer manufactured, 3/4 was a common size in years gone by, just shy of a  full but bigger than a twin in contemporary sizing. It’s close enough to a full to look very nice with a full mattress, but still too small to just work. So what to do? We already had a standard-issue steel bed frame for the full bed in our guest room (the kind that comes free with the mattress), so we were interested in this for decorative purposes. Basically, we just wanted the headboard and footboard attached to the existing frame in a reasonably sturdy manner. As it turns out, this is simple enough to accomplish with nothing more than a few bolts and a board.

Here’s how I did it: first, have a look at your existing metal frame. Most of them have a bolt plate at the end to attach a headboard, consisting of a metal right-angle plate with two slots for bolts on each end. Some have this at both ends, but most don’t; this is so that the same adjustable-width frame can work with a queen or a full. We wanted the bed against the wall, so we simply rotated the frame so the headboard plates were at the foot, and wedged the headboard between the bed and the wall. If you felt the need you could affix the headboard directly to the wall with screws, or to the floor with a corner brace. Headboard in place, now on to the footboard. A 3/4 footboard is going to be narrower than a full frame, so there’s no way to bolt it directly in. To solve this, I set about making a wooden board of the necessary width to affix my headboard to, bridging the gap.

I started by measuring the distance between the bolt holes on the bedframe. On a  full, this is typically about  55″. I added 1.5″ to each side to accommodate the bolt holes. The bed frame I had was assembled with bolts to begin with, so I cut my board tall enough to re-use the same hole so that no modification was required to the antique piece. If you’re not trying to re-use holes, you could easily just affix your board to the footboard with wood screws. I cut my board from a piece of 3/4″ plywood stock I had around in the interest of keeping this as cheap as possible.

Next, I clamped the board to the bed frame, traced my hole pattern, and drilled the holes out using a 1/4″ drill bit. Our footboard was designed to hold the mattress up a bit higher than the frame I was bolting it to, so I also cut away with a jigsaw the area of the bottom of the board that sat between the legs of my footboard so that it woudln’t peek out. Once this was done, I spent some time sanding, staining, and varnishing the board. Certainly my plywood would never finish up to the quality of the mahogany footboard I was mating it to, but the bed skirt will almost entirely hide it. That said, you’ll want to make at least some effort to match the board to the footboard, as it will protrude by a few inches on each side and can peek out. You’ll also want to make sure there are no rough edges for sheets to catch on.

The last step was to first bolt the board onto the footboard, and finally bolt the newly-extended footboard onto the bedframe. I used 1/4″ bolts for the purpose, two per side. Tightened down with care, the bed didn’t squeak one bit, and suddenly our lowly metal bedframe was livened up by a previously unusable antique.

Craftbite fans, I’ve been egregiously lax in my crafting and fooding posts, and I hope you will forgive my silence.  My tiny Brooklyn kitchen has morphed into a huge Vermont one, and I’ve spent the past two months packing up life in NY and transporting it all to a little village on the banks of two lovely, babbling brooks.  Needless to so, my creative adventures have been relegated somewhat to clever box labeling and thorough cleaning.  That being said, our recent home purchase, apartment clean up, and move to the north has opened up quite a few fountains of creative genius.  I unfortunately just haven’t had any time to share them with you! 

So if you will forgive me, I’ll start you off with one of our first baby renovation projects.  As you might imagine, buying a home, giving up one’s full time job, and moving one’s life across a couple state lines doesn’t come cheap.  So Jon and I have been economizing in any corner we can.   His parents also recently purchased a house, this one doomed for the wrecking ball, so we walked through and grabbed whatever we could rip off the walls, err, use effectively in our new abode.  I was thrilled to find a gaudy, brightly polished and lacquered brass chandelier, à la 1970′s CT colonial decor.  It was pretty heinous (I do work for a lighting manufacturer, and I like to think I have sophisticated taste when it comes to illumination), but I thought it might look just quirky and traditional enough for our old house with a coat of fire-engine red gloss.  Jon thoroughly cleaned the chandelier, lightly sanded the surface, and emptied a can of Rustoleum on it (wearing a respirator, of course).  1800′s front parlor meet 1970′s reproduction meet 2010 color.

Forgive my silence over the past week.  I’ve been visiting with friends in Paris, and sampling as many delicacies as I could lay my hands on.  France is always a culinary and trend inspiring experience for me, and this trip was no different.  But after a week of baguette breakfasts, I was ready for a hot and homey American staple-  waffles!

What could be better than some fluffy, crispy waffles on a Sunday morning?  After a weekend of birthday celebrations and late nights, this seemed like the perfect meal.  I modified a recipe to use some wheat germ (mmm healthy, crunchy, nutty goodness), and improvised the buttermilk by adding white vinegar to my whole milk (1T per cup of milk).  I served them with homemade blueberry sauce and, of course, lots of Vermont maple syrup.  I find the wheat germ addition makes these waffles extra light and crispy, and they brown beautifully.  Compared to your thick and chewy Bisquick waffles, they are quite delicate.  Just an excuse to eat more of them!  Recipe is posted below.

Buttermilk Wheat Germ Waffles:

• 1-1/2c flour
• 1/2c wheat germ (toasted in a skillet until nutty smelling)
• 1/2t baking soda
• 1t salt
• 1-3/4c buttermilk
• 2 eggs (whites and yolks separated)
• 4T butter, melted

Whisk together the dry ingredients and set aside in a large bowl.  Whisk the buttermilk, melted butter and egg yolks and set aside.  Using an electric mixer, beat the egg whites with a pinch of cream of tartar until stiff peaks form.  Gently incorporate the buttermilk mixture into the flour mixture, then fold in the egg whites until just incorporated (some lumps will remain, and batter will be light and fluid.)  Follow your waffle iron instructions and, voila!  Serve immediately or keep your waffles warm in the oven on a baking sheet.

We ate ours with vegetarian sausage on the side.

A quick aside on waffles irons: I use the Cuisinart round classic waffle iron.  It was recommended to me years ago and has been producing delicious waffles ever since.  I don’t know if it’s bias from growing up in a round-waffle household, or legitimate comparison, but I’ve always found round irons to produce waffles that are more evenly cooked and have more accurate crunch to fluff ratios.  The square and rectangular irons I’ve tried often produced dry corners or thin, too crispy waffles.  Vive la gauffre rond!

A couple weekends ago I experienced a major relief from the 90-100 degree days we’ve been suffering from this summer.  I headed up to Vermont to retrieve Jon from a seven day charity bike ride, and stepped out of the car to a cool, crisp 70 degree morning.  Glory!  I decided it would be a great opportunity to fire up the oven (something I’ve avoided for over a month) and bake him and his bike riding friend Mike a pizza feast worthy of anyone who burns 8,500 calories in one day in the saddle.

I brought the pizza stone out of temporary retirement for the occasion and gathered my ingredients from the local grocery store and farmer’s market.  I decided on a white pizza, with some salty and some sweet toppings, and a more traditional mozzarella, tomato, basil pie.  The farmer’s market sold me an overflowing bag of basil, so rather than pick a few lonely sprigs, I pulverized the whole thing with some olive oil, salt, garlic, parmesan and pepper into a quick pesto.  I stretched the dough (store-bought, I know, but I wasn’t in my own kitchen for goodness sakes) and spread out the round slices of fresh mozzarella.  I then layered lovely red and yellow tomatoes (thanks to my dad’s garden), slivered fresh garlic, and dollops of pesto.  Into the hot oven it went for 15 minutes until crispy and bubbly.

For pizza number two, I spread a healthy heaping of shredded ricotta salata, Parmesan, and sharp cheddar (we were in Vermont after all), then crumbled on a little log of fresh goat cheese.  Added some sauteed vidalia onion, and tiny sliced yellow plums from the farmer’s market.  (I had gone in search of figs, but was lured by the plum vendor’s free samples.)  Both pizzas received a healthy sprinkling of fleur de sel when they came out of the oven.  The plums were a tiny bit tart for the pie, and I do think figs would have been the best option, but both pies were pretty darn delicious.  (Even to someone who hadn’t worked so hard to deserve the calories!)

But I’m sure to have offer ample opportunities to discuss the wonderful world of moldy curds with you all; today I want to discuss fondue.  The first great fondue I ever ate, and the benchmark by which I’ve judged all subsequent fondues, was served in a turkish bath house-come fondue restaurant out in the middle of Lake Geneva.  Here’s a brief excerpt from my travel journal to give you a glimpse of the dinner: “We sit down to an exquisitely delectable dinner of hot, bubbling, cheese fondue with hunks of crusty on the outside, spongy on the inside bread and white wine.  The fondue is eaten up shockingly fast and we proceed to scrape and poke at the enameled, cast iron fondue pot until every crumb of hardened cheese is freed and consumed.”  What I remember as the most important features of that fondue were the thick, melted cheese texture (not too liquid), the pungent but not overpowering aroma of the white wine in the cheese, and the temperature. The fondue was hot enough, bubbling at times, to leave a browned, crispy lace of golden cheese at the bottom of the pot.  Scraped up, it was like a fine savory dessert. The swiss fondues are predominantly made of Gruyere cheese, and I’ve stuck to that theme ever since.  (Speaking of gruyère, the cheese comes from happy alpine cows that munch on grasses and flowers around the the medieval mountain top town of Gruyères.  And in the town you can taste the famed thick and silky Gruyère double cream, but I’ll save that for another entry.)

After my trip to Switzerland, I retired my tinny 1970′s fondue pot, and invested in a Swissmar enameled cast iron monster- cherry red with a hefty handle and wrought iron stand.  It’s the same pot we were served with in Geneva, and it warms my heart (and my belly) to take it out for an evening.  I start by rubbing the inside of the pot with a halved garlic clove, then add 1-1/2 cups dry white wine.
When the wine comes to a simmer, gradually add a pound of grated cheese (I usually stick to all gruyère since it has such a rich, nutty flavor), stirring gently in a zig zag pattern to keep the cheese from clumping.  Once the cheese is melted, add one tablespoon of cornstarch that’s been dissolved in 2 teaspoons of liquid (wine, calvados, kirsch, water), bring the fondue to a simmer and keep stirring (in your zig zag) for about 8 minutes, until thick and creamy.  Light your sterno and lift your forks!

In Switzerland, you’ll be served bread alone for dipping, but I often also roast up some red potatoes until crispy.  The most important thing to remember, though, is that your fondue will only be as good as the ingredients you use.  So good cheese, and really good bread are a must.  You might also want to cook up a green vegetable to eat along side- if only to cut the guilt factor of eating a whole meal of melted cheese.