First things first.  In a miracle we can only guess was brought on by a post-Thanksgiving tryptophan induced oversight on the part of the City of Torrance, we finally have the addition permit. Oh we, oh we, oh!

Only took six months.

Our builder says it’ll take eight weeks to complete the addition (asterisk: once they actually start it…cough…cough).  So we’re guessing Via Corona will be ready for her close up in April…just in time for the first anniversary of when we closed on her.

A year.  A YEAR. But, oh we, oh we, oh.

Let’s celebrate with some coooookies.

How about iced oatmeal?

As I’ve stated before, I do not have the special oatmeal touch. I’ve tried working with them all: old fashioned, instant, rolled, Irish, wild.  Each time to middling results (especially the wild).

But, that doesn’t keep me from trying.  So, when I saw a recipe claiming to make cookies like the Mother’s old fashioned iced oatmeal cookies, I was all over it.

Alas, mine turned out soft and pillowy while the objective was crisp and crunchy.  It wasn’t until later that I read the author’s note about not over-processing the oats.  Either way, these were a hit.  And we have permits.  Oh we, oh we, oh!

Iced Oatmeal Cookies

from Mother Thyme 

I’m putting her note up front because I did not see it until later and mine were decidedly more rotund than I would have liked:

Mother Thyme: To have these cookies turn out flat, you don’t want to over ground the oats, just a couple quick pulses in the food processor to break them up a bit. If the oats are finely ground, the cookies won’t spread. You want to keep the oats in tact as they create texture.

• 2 C old-fashioned rolled oats
• 2 C all purpose flour
• 1 TBS baking powder
• ½ tsp baking soda
• ½ tsp salt
• 2 tsp cinnamon
• ½ tsp ground nutmeg
• 1 C (2 sticks) butter, softened
• 1 C light brown sugar
• ½ C sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

• 2 C confectioners sugar
• 3 TBS milk

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray baking sheets with cooking spray or line with parchment and set aside.
2. Place rolled oats in a food processor and pulse for about 10 seconds until coarse.
3. Mix oats with flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and nutmeg.
4. Using an electric mixer cream butter and sugars.
5. Add in eggs one at a time then vanilla extract.
6. Gradually add in flour mixture until combined.
7. Roll dough into 2 TBS size balls and place on baking sheet spacing about 2 inches apart.
8. Bake for 10-12 minutes until the bottoms begin to brown.
9. Cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.

1. Mix confectioners sugar and milk together in a medium bowl.
2. Quickly dip tops of cookies into glaze and let excess drip off.
3. Place back on wire rack until glaze sets.
4. Store cookies in an airtight container.

Feeling snappish?

Maybe a little snickery?

Yeah.  Me too.

As a social scientist I’m fascinated.  As a woman, I’m devastated. But, as a pragmatist, my natural inclination is to accept the reality, take responsibility and productively work toward making change.  All things considered, I think I held it together pretty well until the Kate McKinnon cold open on SNL last week.

As cookie monster once said, “Me love poetry…and cookies.”  Leonard Cohen and Kate McKinnon gave us the poetry.  Let me help with the cookie.

How about a gingerdoodle?  Nope, not a designer dog.  Just the love child of two holiday favorites. Oh, and I’ve renamed it the snickersnap.  Provided the current environment I thought this treat needed a sassier name.  I think nasty snickersnap is an even more apt moniker but it’s not generally good form to use the word “nasty” in something you hope will be eaten.

And, with its three forms of ginger and shot of cinnamon you can bet this snickersnap grabs back.

I’m too old to believe baked goods can solve the world’s ills.  Not even world peace cookies.  But sometimes, a cookie or two with a strong cup of coffee (or a glass of wine) can help reset your perspective and remind you that everything could just, might be, okay.

Snickersnaps

This is a total recipe mashup.  I got the idea from our friend Betty Crocker’s recipe for gingerdoodles ).  But, because I already have a favorite gingersnap recipe: triple ginger ginger cookie  and  am loyal to Christina Tosi’s snickerdoodle base, I used those.

I wish I could say this was a final reveal.  But hey, it’s nice to have that to look forward to.

At least that’s what we keep telling ourselves.

This space still has a long way to go.  Until then, please enjoy this photo montage of the weird things that have been in our kitchen in the last six months.

As for permit watch 2016?

The city sent the plans back to the architect for a fourth round of revisions.  That’s right folks–four rounds of revisions (and counting) for a 200 square foot addition and deck replace–both of which fit into the house’s existing footprint.

It generally takes the architect two weeks to resubmit and then it takes the city another two weeks to respond.  Optimistically, we’ll be deep into the winter holidays by the time those permits are granted which means ‘aint nobody starting that part of the project until after the new year.

So, we’ve got that going for us.

A note on Via Corona.  Though the pace feels glacial (and our complaining is torrential), they are making progress…just not enough to share on a weekly basis.  That’s what Instagram is for and if you aren’t following you probably should (@tmhostess, #makeoverviacorona).  So, for a few weeks, we’re going to alternate regular TMH content with house updates.

This week, because we’re still waiting on permits, we all need a drink.

What’s your favorite carpool karaoke? Mine’s a tie between Michelle Obama, and Lin-Manuel Miranda (with serious honorable mentions to Chris Martin and Adele).  I’ll admit that my late night television viewing exists in its entirety of after the fact YouTube videos.  I’m lucky if I make it to 10:00 on a school night.  Golden age of television indeed.

As YouTube viewing is wont to do, TD and I spent a delightful evening  freefalling down the rabbit hole of  back editions of carpool karaoke.  This  lead to watching other James Cordon videos which lead to one in which he enjoys something called an Eastern Standard.

While TD and I make it a rule to order on the low-key end of the libations scale when out I think we are both afraid of how much fun the other one will make), we do enjoy mixing it up a bit within the privacy of our own home where no one can judge us for drinking tin can margaritas and other frothy concoctions.

A little research revealed that the Eastern Standard is made with simple syrup, cucumber juice, a little mint, fresh lime juice and either gin or vodka.

The cucumber juice is made by pulverizing cucumber in either a food processor or blender (I used the Vitamix) and straining out the pulp.

I also made a honey simple syrup because I can’t seem to leave a good thing alone.  Just so you know, those slices of bread in the background were about to be grilled.  We aren’t harboring pigeons in our rental or anything. Though, Gracie the cat did recently catch and release a dragonfly into the house.  Hilarity ensued.  Unless you were the dragonfly.

The results were refreshing though not completely novel in flavor (cucumber, lime and mint being usual suspects when it comes to cocktails).  It was kind of like a mix between a Pimm’s cup (minus the Pimm’s) and a mojito (replace the rum).

The beverage is meant to be served up.  And while we tried a round of it as instructed (in stemless wine glasses because our martini glasses are in storage…just like the rest of our lives), we decided we prefer them over the rocks, just a nidge sweeter than the original recipe with the mint not strained-out.

(dirty) Eastern Standard

adapted from California Bountiful

Ingredients

• 2 oz. vodka
• 1 1/2 tbsp. cucumber juice (see below for instructions)
• 1 1/2 tbsp. lime juice (use fresh)
• 1 tbsp. honey simple syrup (see below for instructions)
• Cucumber slice
• Mint leaves

Instructions

1. Fill cocktail shaker with ice.
2. Combine liquid ingredients.
3. Shake thoroughly.
4. Strain into glass.
5. Add cucumber slice and mint to garnish.
6. Even if you are serving over ice, do the first five–it’ll help mix the ingredients and you’ll look cool.

for cucumber juice

1. Peel and seed two or three cucumbers or six Persian cucumbers.
2. Pulse in food processor or blender until smooth
3. Set a fine-meshed strainer over a bowl.
4. Strain mixture.  Store in air-tight container in fridge for up to a week.

for simple syrup

1. In a small saucepan, stir together 1/2 C water and 1/2 C honey.
2. Bring mixture to a boil.
3. Remove from heat.
4. Allow to cool completely and store in an air tight container in the fridge.

November 1st has traditionally marked the first official day of Misanthropic Hostess holiday baking.

Here is what my kitchen looked like on October 31st:

The floors are in, they just finished doing the electrical and, if they can get the space appropriately sheet rocked, drywalled and plastered, the cabinets are supposed to be installed on Saturday.  Then, it’s another couple  of weeks to fabricate the counter tops.  Add another week for tile and appliance installation and best case scenario, we’re looking at the first week of December before I have an operational kitchen.  Of course, nothing in this project has proven to be best case scenario so I’m not going to hold my breath.

And so it goes my friends, that I find myself apologizing in advance for the second year in a row. Please don’t hate me because I don’t have a kitchen.  I promise to make up for it on the back end.  Assuming we’ll ever make it to the back end.

TD here.

On October 16, 1793 Marie Antoinette found herself on the business end of the guillotine.  You can look it up.  Just about 173 years later Via Corona’s one and only garage door was installed.  This week, some 223 years after the Queen lost her head, Marie the Garage Door slipped the mortal coil as it were.

Having turned 50 back in March, I share the sadness of similarity with the deceased.  Marie, like many our age, has seen better days.  Creakier and heavier than you’d expect and, if I may be so indelicate, it takes at least two people to get it up.

Marie was old school.  By conservative estimate she weighed in at a sturdy 7 tons.  A broken spring in April put her on the Physically Unable to Perform list, alongside Via Corona’s fireplace and Jaime Garcia.  In recent weeks she’d adopted the temperament of today’s stereotypical college sophomore.  Raised carefully and with great effort, she was entitled, petulant and demanding.   And because we never knew when a whisper, an errant breeze or the simple force of gravity would cause her to come unhinged; crashing back to Earth with guillotine force, any and all immediate surroundings were declared safe spaces.

A brief scan of the Interwebs left us with two replacement options.  Local Mom & Pop garage door shops and the faceless multi-national corporate titan known as BIG GARAGE DOOR.  Hoping to add to Torrance’s local economy, we first opted for Mom & Pop.  Unfortunately, that experience was eerily similar to this scene from Hell or High Water (which is a very enjoyable, highly recommended movie incidentally).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZG44wUm8VA

Alas Mom & Pop offered only the T-bone steak and a baked potato (read: crummy basic garage doors without windows).  Wanting a bit more variety and pizazz, we were pushed into the clammy grips of BIG GARAGE DOOR.

Unlike the Johnny One Note’s at Mom & Pop’s location, the Glory Boys over at BIG GARAGE DOOR came to the house in a sports car with multitudes of catalogs under their blue blazers .  For a price, they can make even your wildest dreams come true.  Provided you dream of garage doors.

After giving Marie the once-over they declared her a relic.  A “danger to herself and others” they sniffed.  “It’s high time we trade her in on a younger model.” they said.

After a brief fling with the first catalog available, we settled on the model you see below.  As expected, she’s younger, sleeker and sexier than her predecessor.  Constructed overseas, she understands only basic commands, but fully comprehends where her bread is buttered.  Unlike Marie, she offers no resistance, operating with the vacuous efficiency of a Stepford Wife . . . wrist, wrist, elbow, elbow, smile, turn, smile.

We’re calling her Melania.

Want more Via Corona?  Visit her home page: Via Corona

We promised pictures this week.  And so we shall deliver.

The floor guy finished laying the wood parts of the stairs.  Of course they are under cardboard (hence the blue tape) but we’ve been assured that it’s there.  We also had the banister installed.

Gracie the cat loves the stairs.  Or more appropriately, this is where she believes her plot to kill her captives and finally gain freedom will go down.  Silly cat doesn’t understand that crunchies don’t grow on trees.

Working with the iron guy was very cool and I feel unnecessarily proud of the outcome.  I didn’t actually do any of the forging but I did get to visit the workshop.

This doesn’t look like much but for those of you who have been in the house, you understand the gift that is a level sub-floor.  And yes, those two pieces of wood are keeping the boogeyman out.  The haunted house front doors have slowly deteriorated during our tenure.  They no longer close completely and the handset decided to stop working earlier this week.  Good thing we don’t have any thing to steal.

There has also been progress in the powder room.  No more exposed termite guts.

And progress in the laundry.  The room still needs baseboards and another electrical outlet before we can do the full install.  But we have a functional washer and dryer.  Game changer.

Upstairs things are a little more finished.  The floors are in.  Marble in the guest bath.  Oversized tile in the master.  Carpet in the bedrooms (whah whah).

And oil finished oak in the hallways and down the stairs (and someday soon, throughout the downstairs).  When you are living in a construction zone–where all you see is what needs to be done, changed or fixed–it’s easy to lose site of what is beautiful.  These floors are beautiful.

Our current bedtime digs aren’t bad if you ignore the unfinished electrical outlets, face-plateless switches and door frames that need to be sanded and painted (again).  This is also where future guests will lay their heads.  The bedroom features its own en suite and a one of a kind Buddy-the-Cat sleeping companion.  The bad news is that he’ll dig in your hair if you aren’t up by 5:00 AM to feed him.  The good news is that after his first morning meal, he’ll go back to bed with you, lie on your chest with his little fluffy head as close to your nose as possible and share the after vapors of his Royal Canin “aging cat” vittles.

The Ms. closet.  I spend more time here than I should.  I think it’s because this is the only completely finished, clean and organized area in the house right now.  Despite TD’s continued insistence and certain habitual tendencies that support his argument, I am not on the spectrum.  However, I openly admit that the Ms. closet is my version of the Temple Grandin’s  cow hugging machine.

If I had to guess how far along we are in this catastrophe of a project, I’d speculate about 40%.  We’ve owned the house for six months.  They’ve been working on it for five and some change.  We’ve lived in it for going on a month.  And we’re less than half way there.

Stu. Pen. Dous.

In fact, allow me to share with you the status of the rest of the house.

Bombed-out shell of a kitchen with toilet in the middle has been transformed into a  bombed-out shell of a kitchen with old dishwasher in the middle. That box and the mirrored closet door are the second part of our home security system.  Every night we block the way to the laundry room (and garage) with the door and enforce it with the box.

Decorating for Halloween to the tune of Stranger Things is in big this year.  Someone send me a string of lights and we’ll be good to go.  I suspect the upside-down world is Via Corona and it wouldn’t surprise me to find Barb hanging out in the attic.

Speaking of Stranger Things, I need to digress for a moment.

Wheeler household:

Via Corona after we pulled off the river rock:

Hmmmm.

Moving on.  Dining room.  I think the boarded up fireplace gives it that extra special abandoned house je ne sais quoi. Artwork c/o Sloane Blum.

Charming isn’t it?

TD and I are attempting to accept the reality that despite funding this little expedition, we are not (and never have been) in control.   We are well beyond the original estimate of three-to-four months of work.  And for those of you keeping track–still no freakin’ permits on the addition and deck.