Zhushing the rectangle

This week’s post is all TMH.

There is no way to sugarcoat the following truth. When it comes to the design approach on this project, there has never been nor will there ever be any pretense of style-ocracy. I am the style-tator. I make the style-cisions. Luckily, TD trusts my judgement. And when I say trust I mean doesn’t really care. The formula works for us both.

A few years ago I started throwing pictures of architecture, interiors and design elements I liked onto a Pinterest board. I reasoned that if I collected enough information about the things that “spoke” to me, I could figure out my style. I mean our style.

I was also hoping it would help to divorce me from the “pick something someone else would like” rule I used for the mini-renovation on our last house. Hundreds of saved photos combined with several years worth of subscriptions to House Beautiful, Elle Decor, Dwell and Sunset and some clear patterns emerged (yes, dear former colleagues…and I know you know who you are…I can hear you saying ‘and now let’s put on our nerd hats’).

First the good news: my design-centered grounded theory approach worked (still wearing that nerd hat just to be obnoxious). A clear aesthetic emerged.

Now the bad news for my ego: that aesthetic is not very original.

I’m calling it California-Scandanavian-pinch-of-eclectic-grown-up-comfortable. You can call it “the most popular pins on Pinterest.” You know the look: light walls, white kitchen, mostly neutral furnishings with maybe a rattan accent chair or faded kilim rug to send the message that you’ve been places (IKEA) and know things (mostly from Instagram). I love this look. So does everyone else.

Source: Amber Lewis Designs

I have long been a stalker…I mean fan…of Amber Lewis of Amber Lewis Designs. Her approach is contemporary but laid back, super rich on texture without being overwhelming and so, so Californian. I even thought for half a second that we might be able to hire her firm for Via Corona. But, budget limitations and some kind friends convinced me that I could do the design work myself (well, and I couldn’t even work up the courage to send her an email inquiry). A fool’s errand indeed.

Source: House Beautiful  also, One Kings Lane

Some houses are a tabula rasa while others tell you what they need. Part of the draw to Via Corona was that from the minute we stepped in the living room, her message was clear: view, location and light. We’ve talked about the view ad nauseum. In terms of location, the house is about a mile from the beach. The house gets a great ocean breeze and is subject to the early morning (and late afternoon) marine layer. As for light? It’s beautiful in nearly every room in the house. Light was something we really struggled with on the first floor of our old house so this was something we took note of during the house search. And there you have it: our golden triangle–view, location, light.

Source: Camille Styles

Focusing on this triumvirate has made many of the design decisions easy (except for the part where the Stark antelope carpet I’d been coveting just didn’t make sense in this space). So has the fact that once the addition is complete there will be very few walls in the common space and lots of windows and french doors. The idea is to keep visual distraction to a minimum while creating a super comfortable and functional place to hang out.

Source: My Domaine also, Amber Interiors

We’re also picking and choosing our luxuries and bargains. TD’s television and sound system for the entire house were purchased before we even met Via Corona (in his defense it was purchased for the ugly but mean girl house). I’ve chosen wide-plank oil finished hardwood for the floors and crazy (for me) Italian porcelain countertops in the kitchen.

Source: Tessa Neustdat

On the flip side, we’re going pre-fab and semi custom for the kitchen and bathroom cabinetry, lots of my favorite white subway tile where tile is needed and carpet in the bedrooms. We’re also doing the closet and pantry/laundry shelving installations ourselves (I know this is peanuts to all you seasoned DIYers out there but it’s a big deal for us).

We’re also keeping to the golden triangle when it comes to furniture. Because of the way we are opening up the downstairs, the result will be a kind of L-shaped great room. Dining will blend to living will blend to sitting will blend to kitchen. After trying many configurations via pen and graph paper it became clear that a sectional was the way to go.

At first I was very disappointed. Sectionals are SO suburban. At least that’s what I thought. Luckily they’ve come a long way from my early 80s memories of rust-colored plush monstrosities complete with cup holders and dueling recliners. With the sectional and our existing dining room table serving as the anchors, the rest of the furniture will be collected over time. You can bet that at some point, this chair, or more realistically, a version that I can afford, will call Via Corona home.

Source: Design within Reach

While we joke about the exterior as “rectangle,” the house ever so subtlely suggests colonial and cape cod styles. In keeping with many of the houses in the area, we’re planning to stay simple with a clean white exterior from top to bottom and black accents via the shutters and doors. And some crown stuff. There will be some crown stuff…like a weather vane or maybe a door knocker. You know, classy.

Source: Charm Design

Hardscaping and landscaping will come next year after we’ve lived in the house for a few months.

No detail too small, we did not forget about the feline contingent of our domestic unit. TD has made an aggressive lobby for a cat tree or two. This suggestion has been repeatedly denied. Style-tatorship has its perks. However each cat will get a brand new groovy litter box. Gracie has already called dibs on the orange version.

Source: Modko

I hope the cat in the picture is included.

If you follow-along on Instagram (@TMHostess) you’ve caught a glimpse of the destruction brought down on Via Corona in the last few weeks. She’s gutted my friends. So, next week we have a double post of “during” pictures. Tuesday we cover the downstairs while Thursday is up.

Episode 6: Appetite for destruction: Downstairs edition

See all Via Corona posts (to date) here: Via Corona

Sometimes you feel like a nut

And now we break for pie! No house stuff this post. We’re kicking it slow jam style with some actual baking.

As I mentioned a few posts ago, we are renting a small apartment while Via Corona undergoes her transformation. The apartment isn’t much to look at, but she’s safe, clean and in a great location. I wasn’t kidding when I said we put 80% of our stuff in storage. They say you don’t miss your stuff. I miss my stuff. I also miss baking.

I know, your closet is bigger than my rented kitchen. But, if I’m being honest, I could probably bake anything in this kitchen just as well as I could at our last place. Time has been the issue.

Recently though, I had a thought about pie. And as I’m sure you know, once you start thinking about pie, it’s hard to stop. During my TMH tenure I’ve made lots of fruity pies but not much in the way of custardy pies. The reason is simple: I far prefer fruit pies to the rest of the pie catalog.

This technically began as a fruit pie. Coconut is a fruit.

Coconuts made me think of chocolate and almonds. So, a crust of almond meal it was. With coconut oil in solid form serving as the fat source (it totally worked).

The take on the crust in this picture was too thick. The recipe below allows for a thinner crust.

I determined the chocolate should come in the form of ganache. It’s easy to spread and saying ganache annoys TD. A lot . Ganache. Ganache. Ganache.

For the coconut cream filling I replaced three-quarters of the dairy in the original recipe with full-fat coconut milk.

Almond crust, ganache liner, coconut cream filling. You with me?

I lined the crust with ganache. If you want less chocolate, don’t. But. Please.

Next up: coconut cream filling. This is a custard that thickened up so quickly as I was whisking it over low heat that I didn’t have a chance to photograph it in-process.

Top with another layer of ganache.

Add a final layer of whipped cream. I used whipping cream because I had it but you could also use coconut cream (like from the fruit…not the filling) for added coconuttiness. Top the whole thing with toasted coconut and almond slivers and Bob’s your uncle.

Because I was losing my light, I only let the who shebang chill in the fridge for about an hour. I got good light but smeared pie. Not sure if that’s better than pretty pie in bad light.

By the time I was finished making the pie I wasn’t interested in trying it. Then, the next evening I had some after dinner. As I was eating my sliver (it’s ridiculously rich), I caught myself thinking, ‘man, this is really good.’ Make it. I know it looks like there are a lot of steps–but they’re easy and can be spaced out over a couple of days. You’ll thank me.

Almond Joy Pie

Almond Flour Crust

adapted from Fountain Avenue Kitchen

Ingredients

1 1/4 C blanched almond flour or almond meal.
2 TBS granulated sugar
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1 1/2 TBS coconut oil in solid state (throw it in the fridge if need to firm-up)
1 egg
1/4 tsp vanilla

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease 9-inch pie pan.
In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking soda and salt. Toss or whisk to combine.
Add the egg and vanilla and mix. Then scatter-in bits of the coconut oil.
Toss mixture using a snapping motion with your fingers until you can press the mixture together into a ball.
Press dough firmly into the pie pan carefully working it up the sides.
Prick with a fork all over and bake until golden brown, about 12 minutes.
Allow to cool completely.

Chocolate Ganache

Ingredients

1 C whipped cream
1 C bittersweet chocolate chopped (chips will do in a pinch)
1 TBS butter
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
pinch of salt

Directions

In a small heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat cream until little bubbles form around the perimeter.
Remove from heat. Add chocolate, swirling cream until chocolate is covered.
Sit for 5 minutes.
Whisk cream and melted chocolate until smooth. Whisk-in butter, vanilla and salt.
Transfer to a small bowl and refrigerate until cool (at least 60 minutes)

Coconut Cream

adapted from Epicurious

1/2 C sugar
2 large eggs + 1 large egg yolk
3 TBS all purpose flour
1 C whole coconut milk
1/2 C whole milk
1 1/2 C sweetened flaked coconut
1 tsp vanilla extract

Directions

Whisk together 1/2 C sugar, eggs, egg yolk and flour in a medium bowl.
In a medium heavy-bottomed sauce pan, bring milk, coconut milk and coconut to summer over medium heat.
Starting with 1/2 cup, gradually add hot milk mixture to egg mixture, whisking constantly,
Return to saucepan and cook until pastry cream thickens and boils, whisking constantly, about 4 minutes.
Remove from heat and mix-in vanilla.
Transfer to a medium bowl, press plastic wrap directly on to the surface of the cream to prevent skin.
Chill until cold, at least 2 hours and up to 1 day.

Topping

Ingredients

2/3 C sweetened flaked coconut
1/2 C slivered almonds
1 1/4 C chilled whipping cream
2 TBS sugar

Directions

Toast coconut in a small skillet over medium heat until lightly browned. Cool completely.
Using an electric or stand mixture, beat cream and sugar until peaks form.

To Assemble Pie (finally)

Spread layer of ganache over pie crust.
Carefully layer pastry cream on top of ganache layer.
Top with a layer of ganache.
Top ganache with whipped cream.
Sprinkle toasted coconut and slivered almonds over the top.
Store in the fridge.

All that you can’t leave behind

TD here! Against her better judgment, TMH turned over the keys to the kingdom this week.

Fair Warning: This post really has no point. It’s simply a grab for cash to augment a continually escalating budget. If you are looking for renovation progress, recipes or salvation, check back next week. Or maybe the week after. Now, on with the show!

Here’s the harsh reality of renovation budget planning:

1. Create an absolute worst-case scenario budget

2. Add 30% to that number

3. Light that budget on fire

4. Who do you think you are anyway?

Since we’ve had no takers on the indecent proposal scenario, it’s come to this.

Welcome to:

Crap from Via Corona

This week and this week only we’re offering you (yes, you!) the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to purchase a genuine chunk of Via Corona history.

That’s right, we’re selling the actual items the actual previous owners actually left in the house! You can have it all! My empire of dirt!

Before you get all up in arms about our responsibility to return all of this to the original owners, you need to know that we gave them an additional week to move out after closing on the house. My generosity knows no bounds!

Before the bidding begins, please remember that these treasured items are sold as collections only. No substitutions. Meet or exceed the minimum bid in the next 48 hours and this ~~vile garbage~~ valuable loot could be a heaping pile on your doorstep in as little as 7 to 10 business weeks (shipping and handling not included).

LOT #1: THE HUSTLE & FLU COLLECTION

We begin the bidding with a menagerie of medication.

If you’ve been under the weather in the last 20 years, do we have the collection for you!

As they say South of the border, “patada el tempora de frio y gripe en el culo” with this fine collection of vintage medicines (handy Spanish translator HERE for those of you who didn’t take two semesters of Spanish at SIU).

This collection has everything! Three bottles of Zicam Nasal Spray (two unused!). Zicam claims it actually shortens the cold. Great news if you had that cold in 2007 because these babies expired in July of that year!

Let’s say you had strep throat, pneumonia or a pesky skin, middle ear or urinary tract infection a decade ago. I’m assuming Gimalxina would have handled it, but who knows because the instructions are completely in Spanish. So go ahead and shove fistfuls of Gimalxina in your pie hole if you want. The only way you can die from ingesting this much amoxicilina (whatever that is) would be to choke on the bottle cap, because this bottle . . . (dramatic pause) . . . ALSO expired in ’07!

And while we’re . . . um . . . South of the Border, say Montezuma took his revenge on you – again back in ’07. I’m sure this unopened box of Imodium A-D would have been just what El Medico ordered!

“But TD”, you say. “I’m an insufferable hipster and only do vintage. Do you have any antique medicines? Stuff from before the turn of the century?”

Three words: Ab-so-lutely!

The year was 1997 . . . the Packers beat the Patriots in the Super Bowl, Bill Clinton was President and the average cost of a new house was $124,100. In August of ’97 an unused jar of Vicks Vaporub expired, but it did not die in vain. It still has the pungent odor of your grandma’s nightstand, so smear a gob of this goo on your chest and breathe freely like the American hero you are you magnificent bastard!

At this point you’re definitely thinking a collection that includes an adult diaper and a feminine napkin can’t get much better, and on that point you’d be 3000% wrong! How about Norelco Cool Skin electric razor with charging station (power cord not included)? To say nothing of the Hollywood Beauty brand carrot oil to control split ends (Warning: bottle coated in carrot oil). How ’bout a Sweet 16 sheer bandages from Long’s Drugs (a company ceased to exist in 2008), a genuine lemon flavored sucker of unknown provenance or Coricidin! Coricidin! Coricidin! They’re all here!

Act now and we’ll throw in trace amounts of a 2 oz. can of Isoplus Oil Sheen Hair Spray, “The Hair Doctor in a Can”.

Minimum Bid for Lot #2: $912.37

LOT #2: THE PUG LIFE COLLECTION

We probably should have called in the Torrance Bomb Squad to handle this weapons-grade stick of comedy/sexual dynamite. See, it’s a pug . . . but it’s wearing lipstick?!

Next Valentine’s Day you are guaranteed to become instantly irresistible to males, females and everything in-between when you unleash Pugs & Kisses!

Dinner? Chocolates? Roses? Don’t be a chump. This card is like stuffing Tom Jones and Teddy Pendergrass in your mailbox.

This lot comes complete with genuine, sun-damaged yellowish envelope*.

*Stamps not included (postage, food or tramp).

Minimum Bid for Lot #2: $1,500

LOT #3: THE IT MAKES YOUR MOUTH TURN GREEN COLLECTION

This barely-used Comet Variety Pack comes in Regular, Club Size and ~~Nacho Cheese~~ Bilingual flavors.

Club Size Comet let’s you “step up in da club” as the kids say with the only environmentally-surly cleanser that’s both highly corrosive to the eyes, skin and respiratory tract and kosher!

And don’t wait until the wall goes up, make your grimy tub great again with Bilingual Comet with Blanqueador. Whether you scrub in English or Spanish you’re sure to see a scratch-free shine from here to wherever the manufacturing jobs went!

Order before midnight tonight and we’ll add the random can of Ajax which is proudly made in ‘Murica (or Connecticut) by hard working people like you.

Deal with it, Kemosabe. Sh*t’s getting real.

Minimum Bid for Lot #3: $24.31 (or 450 pesos)

LOT #4: THE RUB A DUB DUB COLLECTION

Never in your life has a set of moderately used toiletries made you so appealing to the opposite sex. This fabulous package includes:

Conditioners! Conditioners! Conditioners! We lead off with a 40 oz. bottle of Dove Cool Moisture Cucumber & Green Tea Conditioner (approximately 12 oz. remaining), a 15 oz. bottle of Alberto VO5 Extra Body Conditioner (you’ll get a good 4 ounces here!), a full 9 oz. of a 12 oz bottle of Pantene Pro V Heat Shield Conditioner and finally, as the French say, the piece of resistance – the Bad Boy of Bargain Conditioners.

Yep he’s the one slouching in the back making your heart beat just a little faster. From the curvature of the bottle to his handy pump dispenser, this controversial 40 oz. bottle of Kirkland’s Signature Hydrating Conditioner says, “I got you, follicle!” Controversial, you ask? Indubitably.

A summary glance on the Interwebs suggests you can’t even buy the 40 oz. bottle anymore. It would appear that BIG CONDITIONER sold out to the Commies and now you can only get it in the metric 1 liter (33.8 oz.) size.

The price tag says, $14.65, but can you really put a price on sticking it to BIG CONDITIONER?

Felonious Funk: Felons reading this post need ever worry about dropping the soap again with this half-used 8.5 oz. bottle of Neutrogena Rain Bath Refreshing Shower Gel. Even the Aryan Brotherhood will notice that fresh scent (here I’m guessing).

Clear the Air: Finally friends, reek no more with out fine collection of air fresheners. Here we’re offering a mostly full 7 oz. can of Arm & Hammer Deodorizing Air Freshener or try Glade’s Suddenly Spring Sorpresa de Primavera scent for the times you might need to “suppress your primavera” if you know what I’m saying.

BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE! Act now and we’ll throw in the moderately-used-yet rarely-cleaned shower caddy in the photo!

Minimum Bid for Lot #4: $50

LOT #5: THE LET THERE BE LIGHT COLLECTION

If you’re a Philly sports fan, this lot is your jawn! We’ve got 25 batteries. Mostly of the popular D cell variety in a plastic box to go with a flood light and an ironically non-functional flashlight.

You wanna chuck batteries at Peter Freaking Bourjos for hitting a buck-ninety-five? Now you can! With this veritable sh*tload of Cold War Era batteries, it’s a safe bet your arm will get tired long before security wrestles you to the ground!

Minimum Bid for Lot #5: $220, $221 . . . whatever it takes (see what I did there?)

LOT #6: THE WINSTON WOLF COLLECTION

Say you shot a man in Reno just to watch him die? Your crime scene will be spic and span in a jiffy with this exciting double lot of cleansers.

Windex, Cascade, Raid, Lysol, Dawn, even WD-40 . . . they’re all* here!

*Spic and Span and Jiffy not included.

At this point you’re asking yourself, “Am I even man/woman enough to own this many half-empty cleaning products?” The short answer is probably not.

But what it we threw in three serving platters and a digital telephone modem? Fact is, you’d still probably be a pantywaist, but you’d also be a pantywaist with exactly two cans of roach spray. One for you and one for that special someone.

Minimum Bid for Lot #6: Make us an offer. As long as that offer is north of $1,000 simoleons, it’s done. Done like the dinner you’re serving on those kick-ass platters.

LOT #7: THE FAMILY JEWELS COLLECTION

If you’ve been sitting on the sidelines, get ready to reach for your wallet. We’ve saved the best for last.

Set a course for adventure with two pair of moderately clean men’s knit boxer briefs, size medium (only one previous owner!).

Can’t decide to rub or scratch? Do both with this genuine Las Vegas combo back scratcher/massager (Made in China).

Finally, you’re the King of the World with seven photos of a Windjammer Cruise you did not go on!

Order in the next 20 minutes and we’ll throw in that funky stain on the carpet absolutely FREE.

Just look at that sweet, sweet Windjammer Bar, dammit! There’s not another living soul in any of these photos, so make up some story about the time you were on a ghost ship!

Look at you, you’re not even sure how to act right now. And why are you still reading this? Make moves, my friend. Make moves.

Minimum Bid for Lot #7: $100,000

I’m sure TMH will be back next week to add some much needed class and decorum to the proceedings, but let me remind you that I’m serious as a syphillis about selling this crap.

Everything must go and operators are standing by so don’t just stand there Tiger Mom-ing or Leaning In or whatever you call it. See, see you future. Be, be your future. May, may, make your future!

As long as I’m shilling, one last thing: Season 2 of one of my shows, the BattleFrog College Championship premieres next Thursday at 9:30 PM ET on ESPN. Episodes 2 & 3 are both at 8:00 PM ET Friday and Saturday also on ESPN. My partners and I worked really hard on it for a very long time and it would make me happy if you would watch it. Not to put too fine a point on it but, Via Corona’s future kind of relies on you and all your friends watching but hey, no pressure!

Next up, Episode 5: Zhushing the rectangle

For a list of all Via Corona posts: Via Corona

Talkin’ ’bout my renovation…

We bought a house in a pretty nice town

(talkin’ ’bout my renovation)

Hear the peacocks all around

(talkin’ ’bout my renovation)

Everything needs to be replaced

(talkin’ ’bout my renovation)

Via Corona’s a total disgrace

(talkin’ ’bout my renovation)

This is my renovation

This is my renovation, baby

. . . okay . . .we may have recently seen The Who in concert. On a school night no less. Pete Townshend, Roger Daltrey and my Dad are all the same age, but I digress . . .

Today’s post is a joint effort.

We looked at houses all over Los Angeles proper for more than a year. It likely comes as no surprise that I (TMH) developed a Google Doc to track the highs and lows of the 100+ open houses and showings we attended.

Of that 100+, there were exactly six in our price range we thought we might like enough to actually buy. There is hesitancy in this statement because the market here moves so quickly you often have to bang out an offer while you are seeing the house for the first time.

Of those, we made offers on four.

Three of the four sold for more than the list price–including one that went for $200,000 over asking.

Nope. Not a typo.

We went into escrow on two.

We bought one.

Buying a house in Los Angeles is a tough gig.

Unless you are a gagillionaire (and LA is crawling with ’em), compromise is the name of the game in Los Angeles. Compromise is the sassy neighbor of settling. Compromise insists you surrender to the reality that being responsible, dual income adults will net you a bend-over-and-take-it tax rate but won’t necessarily yield an affordable dwelling. Swimming pools, movie stars indeed.

Compromise gently waterboards you until you accept that you’re ultimately going to pay far more than you wanted for far less than you’d hoped. Once you finally give in, it then becomes about finding the house that sucks least.

How the idea of “sucks least” is operationalized depends on the buyer. In our case it was about finding a house with enough space to host guests, located anywhere South of the 10, North of the 710 and preferably West of the 405. (Note: For those of you who don’t live in the Southland, read a handy primer on why we refer to our freeways as advanced articles HERE.)

At this point we’d like to give major props to our fantastic agent, Ashley Sackerman Bell. Ever patient and helpful, Ashley effectively helped us buy two houses: Via Corona and the one we cancelled escrow on last minute. I consider myself a pretty practical person and not especially prone to hysterics. But man, there were moments…like when after two inspections confirming the presence of disturbed asbestos at “the house we didn’t buy” the sellers claimed it was our word against theirs (and their word refused to confirm or deny the presence of asbestos). Luckily we figured out very early on that all we had to do was call Ashley and she’d be the constant voice of reason. She put up with a haunted clown house, obnoxious selling agents, one dirty old man house owner, a pretty paltry house budget by Los Angeles standards and most importantly: us. If you are looking for an agent, Ashley is your real estate professional.

As you may have guessed from that anvil we’ve been beating you over the head with for the last three weeks (subtlety: not our strong suit), we didn’t instantly fall in love with Via Corona. Though, she did offer up this beauty:

If you can’t tell, our little nymph here is actually tiled into the wall right outside of the powder room. Permanently. We’re not sure if she’s returning the urn or stealing it like some kind of distaff Indiana Jones. We’re going with the latter though because it makes her seem way more bad ass.

But. But. We (well, at least one of us) really do believe that with some love and attention, Via Corona might just be able to toss her glasses, shake out her ponytail and become suddenly, stunningly beautiful.

As soon as the structural engineer confirmed that the house wasn’t going anywhere, we started calling builders and contractors. To be very, very clear: we have zero DIY ability. I (TMH) can manage a project and a budget like it’s my job and TD can come up with more adjectives to describe “fixer upper” than the OED (most of which rhyme with spit bowl). But, as we’ve said before, “almost” isn’t the same as “being” fixed. So, to the professionals we defer.

Finding a builder was like a fairy tale – if that fairy tale is Goldilocks and the Three Bears–and the bears are actually 10-12 hirsute men (where are all the women contractors?). Being home renovation neophytes, we were floored when, upon committing to a major renovation, a pair of Canadian twins with giant teeth (that’s TD talking…the original sentence read “attractive Canadian twins”) didn’t just magically show up at Via Corona prepared with 3D renderings and witty sibling banter.

Stupid HGTV.

More on the builder-selection process once all this is said and done. They say you aren’t supposed to talk during a no-hitter. So, out of an abundance of caution, we’ll be shutting up for the whole game. Including the drive home. At least when it comes to dishing about our builders.

But, that won’t keep us from sharing the project list. if you’re scoring at home, here’s the entirety of everything our current contract says we’re taking on:

Plumbing (all of it)
Electrical (all of it)
Rewire for cable, wifi and alarm systems
Sewer (done…dodged a major bullet, doesn’t need to be completely replaced or lined – they removed a root that looked like a decent-sized platypus)
Exterior cosmetic (anyone want a crapload of fake river rocks?)
Living room addition
Replace and reconfigure deck
Downstairs powder room
Guest bathroom–including moving everything around to create an en-suite
Master bathroom–including moving everything around to create a shower that wasn’t made for an elf
Juliet balcony off master. Maybe. But don’t hold your breath
Walk-in master closet
Kitchen
Laundry room
Fireplace
Raise the 6’8″ ceiling in foyer (complete with 110% chance of finding asbestos!)
Raise the 7’0″ ceiling in upstairs hallway
Replace ALL flooring, baseboards, door and window frames
Replace all interior doors and hardware
Replace front door
Replace garage door
Interior paint through-out
Trim trees

So basically, like Demi More at 40, we are replacing the entire house with younger, newer parts. Adjusted for inflation, Via Corona will still cost more to rejuvenate–like five Demis as much. So, if you know any millionaires looking to make an indecent proposal…either one–or both of us would be into it.

Via Corona is the gift that keeps on giving.

It’s a miracle she don’t have mold (talkin’ ’bout a renovation)

She ain’t gonna die, but she sure is old (talkin’ ’bout a renovation)

And just because we were so proud of ourselves that we did SOMETHING on our own (we’re still patting ourselves on the back), here is a picture of what was formerly the master and smaller bedrooms’ reach-in closets. Hello future walk-in closet!

UP NEXT WEEK: “All that you can’t leave behind”

Next Up: Episode 4: All that you can’t leave behind

View a listing of all Via Corona posts: Via Corona

BEFORE

Before we start tearing up the place, it probably makes sense to show you what Via Corona looks like in her current state.

You know house porn? Well, to paraphrase Justice Potter Stewart, “…I know it when I see it and the (house) involved in this case is not that.”

Here are Via Corona’s current stats:

Built in 1966
4 Bedrooms
2 1/2 baths
1921 square feet
7,000 sq foot lot (give or take).

A word of explanation. Some of these shots are taken from the MLS listing and others were taken with an iPhone. It will be very clear which are which. What’s more, the pictures were taken at different times during the previous owner’s move process and then immediately after we took possession. None of the furniture, furnishings, digital clocks, wheelchairs, exercise bikes or wigs belong to us.

We’ve been calling her Via Corona because that’s her street address. The street and adjacent properties are sort of etched into the side of the hill so that the houses are only on the down slope side. Via Corona sits on the corner. When the original plans for the house were submitted to the city in 1966, the lot was actually located on the other street the house borders. We don’t know how much later Via Corona the street came into existence but we are amused by the fact that she stands on her own. Via Corona precludes no “street,” “lane,” “avenue” or “boulevard.” She’s just Via Corona.

https://misanthropichostess.smugmug.com/Via-Corona/i-SNpk5Pb

You’ve already seen the picture but it’s the only decent shot we have of the outside. I like to refer to the style of the house as “rectangle.” That tree in the lower left hand corner is named Stanley.

The previous owner was a tile layer. And man, he must of loved his work because he brought it home with him. Everywhere. Also, that cupola needs a weather vane.

This fantastic shot includes not only a rusty gate but also a rusty mailbox and an excellent view of the “Arizona” rocks used throughout the front. Yeah, I know, 1982 called and wants its white tile back.

Haunted house front doors. Complete with matching wasps’ nests (upper left corner of the door).

And we’re in the house. There isn’t much of a foyer. You basically walk in and have to go to the right or left. Note the expansive height of the ceiling. Not.

This is what you see when you go to the right from the front door. This is a professional shot…if you couldn’t tell. Here is what it looked like after closing:

Charming right? Those giant windows are just off to the left in this photo. Turning around:

And now we’re looking into the dining room and kitchen.

Looking back toward the living room from the kitchen.

Same angle, professional glamour shot version. Sadly, that digital clock was not among the treasures the previous owners left behind.

This my friends, is the kitchen. The footprint is just about 12X12. You thought we’d go for something larger didn’t you? I see it as an opportunity in efficiency.

Just can’t get enough of that tile. Moving along.

Here we have the laundry room. The door on the left leads to the kitchen. The ovens are immediately to the left as you exit the laundry room. We have big plans for this little room and they don’t include keeping the linoleum or the current entry point from the garage. You know what they do include? A proper fire door. Safety is important.

We’ve come nearly full circle. There is a doorway between the dining area and beginning of the kitchen that nearly completes the oval. But wait…before we go upstairs…

What’s mauve and brown and has an oddly placed window? This powder room. It’s hard to see in this picture but the the ceiling is coved and frosted. It literally looks like someone spackled the ceiling with seven-minute frosting and then went to town with an offset spatula. We may or may not be keeping it.

Do you want to go upstairs and see my fish tank?

Immediately to the right at the top of the stairs is the guest bath. No, your eyes do not deceive you, that vanity really is knee height.

Straight across the hall if you are standing in the doorway of the guest bathroom is what will be TD’s office. This shot was taken during one of the inspections when the owners were packing. What you don’t see is a set set of wigs just outside of the shot.

Okay, let’s head to the left down the hall.

This little light of mine. I’m gonna let it shine. Let it shine…let it shine…let it shine…oh wait. At the very end is another bedroom:

Why yes, that is a shop light installed in the ceiling. There is a matching one above the matching desk on the other side.

Same room but the glamour shot. The views from the three bedrooms on this side of the house are pretty remarkable. We’re going to use this as an upstairs family room/den.

Head out the bedroom and to your left is the only bedroom on the front of the house. This too is a professional shot. This will be the official Via Corona guest bedroom. We will begin taking reservations in early fall 2016.

Okay back down the hall to the opposite end of the house (you’ll pass the guest bath on the left and the office on your right).

Master bedroom. Lipstick on a pig glamour shot.

Master bath. You thought I was kidding about the tile. Okay, out of the bedroom, take a right.

And it’s time to go downstairs.

Let’s go out on the deck (off of the living room).

You’ve also seen this professional shot before.

Looking back toward the house. Living room to the immediate left, dining and kitchen at 11:00. Sometime in the (hopefully) near future, the space all the way up to the post will be living room when french doors to the new deck.

Off the deck at sunset. Bad iPhone shot.

Standing back in the front of the house. This will be a patio some day. Right now it’s a cracked chimney, and two leaning walls.

And there you have it. Our own sysiphean boulder in house form. Mama mia, what have we done?

And now for something completely different…

This is the true story… of two people… who chose to buy a house…work on a renovation and blog about it… to find out what happens… when people stop being polite… and start getting real…The Real World: Hollywood Riviera.

TMH’s perspective:

Let me catch you up. A week after our house went into escrow last December, we went under contract on another house. She was gorgeous. And, you could see Ferris Beuller’s house from the backyard. A dozen inspections and a super stinky pool guy later, we just couldn’t make it work with the sellers (that house is STILL hasn’t sold…so, we weren’t crazy). We cancelled the contract on the house we were buying less than a week before closing on the house we were selling. We hustled, put 80% of our stuff in storage, got lucky and have temporarily returned to the geography of our misspent youths: Hermosa Beach.

This is the view from our apartment. The ocean is three blocks away.

But, that’s not my point.

A couple months later. TD’s 50th birthday. We go into escrow on another house.

Still stinging from the almost purchase of a house that was asethetically beautiful on the outside but rotten (and probably haunted) on the inside, we took a different approach. Or more truthfully, I talked TD into it. Okay fine, I wore him down with ROI algorithms and promises of an outdoor kitchen.

This time we passed up the pretty but mean girl for the diamond in the rough. The ugly duckling. The Cinderella. The Laney Boggs (or Janey Briggs if you prefer).

Here is how I feel about this house (just pretend Rene Zellweger is talking about this house, not Tom Cruise):

Here is how TD feels about it:

https://vine.co/v/OZZYMjdP3ee

TD’s Perspective:

Fine, 50 and F&#@ed Up

Conventional wisdom tells you to buy the worst house on the nicest street. We did them one better.

We bought the worst house on every street.

For miles.

In every direction.

It was a flirtation that came on like the impending bankruptcy it inspired – little by little, then all at once. One day you’re flush with disposable income, the next you’re the proud owner of a 50-year old, bona fide, four-alarm dumpster fire.

And whether your world-view is biblical (“pride goeth before the fall”), homespun (“no good deed goes unpunished”) or just plain practical (“just don’t f&$# up”) it’s clear at this stage our decision to sell our condo and ride this horse is, at present, the financial equivalent of, “hold my beer and watch this!”

Allow me to enumerate the positives of Via Corona:

1. It has a nice view off the deck

2. You can see the Goodyear Blimp take off and land from said deck

That’s it! That’s the list! Everything behind the deck is, to put it mildly, an utter disaster.

All together now

As you can see, we have very different perspectives when it comes to this house. Early on, we realized that we had two choices: butt heads, take it too seriously and probably get divorced as our nest egg dwindles to jelly beans OR make fun of ourselves. We’re attempting the latter. And, being grumpy gen-exers in a millennial world, we decided to take you along for the ride.

Welcome to TMH 2.0…Real World Renovation Hollywood Riviera. We haven’t quite worked out the format. Sometimes TMH will write. Sometimes TD will write. Maybe we’ll write together on occasion. I’ll even throw in a recipe or two baked in our rental kitchen (get out your kaftans and fondue pots).

Each Thursday for what our building contract says is the next couple of months (which we interpret as for the unforeseeable future) we’ll bring you weekly updates. It should be fun. Or maybe it’ll be a train wreck. Which should be fun.

Welcome to Via Corona:

Episode 2: Before

No new tale to tell

I was obsessed with Love and Rockets in high school. And The Cure. And REM. Oh, and INXS.

I have no new recipe to share because I’m lazy and haven’t taken the time to reconstruct the uber lemony cupcakes that were supposed to be this post.

Things have been lonely without my annual bake-a-palooza (go here for 2014 and here for the year before). There is a part of me that wondered if a year off from holiday baking would cure me of it forever. I’m relieved to say, absolutely not. While choosing to not bake for 2015 was a smart call–new job, house in escrow, no new house under contract, general chaos everywhere, zombie apocalypse…okay, maybe not the last one–I’ve missed just about every aspect of it.

Next year.

Here is the thing. I’ve realized that me saying “I’m not going to do any holiday baking the year” is pretty much the same as your high school boyfriend saying “just the tip.” And so, six batches of rum butter nuts, four batches of quadruple threat chocolate cookies, two batches of nutella rice crispy treats, four batches of triple ginger cookies, a double batch of Altoid brownies and a slightly overcooked batch of salted caramel squares later, I definitely did not do any holiday baking.

I’m not sure what the next few months will look like for TMHostess. There is still that part where we’re going to be homeless in mid-January (our house sold faster than we could find the next one), but like a bad penny or that weird stain on the carpet, I’ll be back.

In the meantime, happy holidays and here’s to a fantastic 2016!

The Haps

In the words of many before me, life happened.

Since we last chatted over candied carrots in September, TD and I finished our renovations (and by that I mean we wrote checks and other people with actual skills did the work), put the house on the market and, in a twist no one saw coming, next month I’m heading back to my former institution for an unexpected career opportunity.

So, I intentionally put TMH on hold. It’s hard to cook in a kitchen that needs to be stranger worthy 24/7.

I have a handful of recipes to share between now and the end of the year but today, I thought I’d share our (minor) renovation adventures.

TD and I have lived in our little townhouse for nearly nine years. And while it’s been the perfect place for us, it’s just time to get a bigger boat. Sprucing up the joint was a necessity before we put the house on the market. I also wanted to try out our renovation tolerance. I’ve got big plans for the future but first wanted to make sure “we” could survive them.

Scope: kitchen resurface, new flooring throughout house, restained stair railing (three floors worth), new paint and a couple of other odds and ends.

Most of the visible work was done in the kitchen. Behold, the before:

We basically had a builder-grade kitchen. As I’ve noted on the blog, I’ve replaced all the appliances (save the fridge) in the last year and a half…which makes the before a tiny bit less appalling

Looking into the breakfast nook. As useful as they have been for me from a baking perspective, the beloved Ikea expedit shelving made for a crowded corner. And don’t get me started on that tile.

We’ve always used what should be the living/family room as a dining room. And used the loft on the third floor as the living family. It’s worked well for us but we knew everything had to go back to where it “should” before before selling. You catch a corner of the original stain on the stair rail below. Very school house yellow. Also, I never did catch a snap of the dining room in its natural state. In this blurry picture we were prepping for the kitchen resurface.

We can’t really call the work done in the kitchen a remodel. Nothing got moved around. But, we did replace the countertops, backsplash, had the cabinets refinished and replaced the flooring and paint.

The demo was gratifying even if they wouldn’t let me help out.

The cabinet refinishing process was really interesting. They pulled off all the doors and made a sort of tent in the garage. They did the same in the actually kitchen and then airbrushed several coats.

Then the floors came up.

It’s fun to replace flooring on three stories worth of stairs. Yes, it is.

We also had them replace all of the downstairs baseboards with a more detailed three-inch finish.

Et voila!

Oh wait…a couple of notes first. The remainder of the pictures are professional, taken by the photographer who works for the Stephanie Younger Group (I’ve asked for his name a couple of times so I can properly credit but don’t have it yet). Also, the house is staged in these photos. With the exception of the bed in the guest bedroom, all the furniture is our own. However, they pulled out all the area rugs, replaced accessories with more neutral ones and generally depersonalized the house to make it nice but very generic. I get it. I totally do. But I still think my stuff is better.

Let’s try this again. Voila!

We used the same paint color throughout the entire house. The painters we worked with only use Dunn Edwards paint so we had them match their paint to Benjamin Moore’s Pewter Revere. The color is a universally appealing griege. While it was a intentional move on our part (another of the “other people” likes), I have to admit, I’ve really enjoyed the color. Depending on the lighting and time of day it reads anywhere from a soft grey to bluish to green to a nice light taupe.

The hardwood is a hand scraped walnut. Confession time. I know people love the wide planks and texture of hand-scraped wood. I also get that laying down a surface with texture makes it more forgiving of scrapes and blemishes. This is why we chose it. So that someone else will love it. But, it’s not my favorite.

While my taste trends more toward the contemporary, I love the old-school long thin-plank style.

That couch. It may be comfortable but I am counting the days.

We went with a wheaty berber carpet on the second and third floors. The stairs take a beating and we wanted something that would hold up also but read a little more stylish than regular pile carpet. Again we went with what other people seem to like. The pattern looks like linen.

Speaking of linens, I have a bit of a bedding fetish. Everything is neutral and goes together (more or less) but I like to change-out the duvet cover and other bedding pieces every few months.

While I was initially disappointed when the stager asked us to do both beds in all white, it does look nice.

Up until this point, the second bedroom was used as an office. However, once we moved the office to the loft and converted this room back to its original purpose we had some serious thoughts about why we needed to move.

This is a really nice, sunny room.

World headquarters of Caught Looking Inc. Not too shabby with a door to the balcony that brings in the ocean breezes from the deck.

One final shot. It’s not really a remodel…just a nice view of “almost” ocean.

Okay. So all of this has been a bit of a diversion to distract you from what I really have to say.

With all of the change going on in our lives, something had to give.

And so.

Well.

Here is the deal.

I’m not doing any holiday baking this year.

My hope is that we’ll have this little townhouse sold and be living in a rental while we renovate our next house by valentines. So maybe there will be some major baking then. Or maybe Easter. Or Memorial Day.

Please don’t put coal in my stocking.

Well curl my carrot

Confession time. I don’t like carrot cake. It’s just not my thing. Which is a shame because any baker worth her weight in cream cheese frosting has a great carrot cake recipe up her sleeve.

Knowing that my baking repertoire was lacking, I began my search for a carrot cake recipe. I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the whole enterprise until I ran across a recipe for candied carrot curls.

What? A candied vegetable? Weird! But totally intriguing. These I had to make.

While they took some patience (long and low bake time on the back end), they were easy, really fun and made a unique and kind of sexy garnish for my carrot cake cupcakes.

As a note on the actual carrot cake recipe, it must be a good one because they were a hit at our annual townhouse association picnic. Well, full disclosure: the group was deep into a serious batch of moscow mules by the time dessert was served so they probably would have liked anything that point.

Carrot Cupcakes with Candied Carrot Curls

Source: Epicurious

makes 12 cupcakes

for the candied carrot curls

Ingredients

1 large or two medium carrots (try to find fat ones)
1 C water
1 C sugar

Directions

Peel carrot(s). Discard outer peelings.
Peel layers from carrot lengthwise on one side with a peeler until you begin to get wide strips. Peel wide strips until you get about 15. Set aside.
Bring water and sugar to boil in a small heavy saucepan, stirring until sugar has dissolved. Add wide carrot strips and simmer, uncovered for 15 minutes.
Strain through a sieve into a bowl. Discard syrup and let stand for 15 minutes.
Preheat oven to 225 degrees. Position rack in middle of oven.
Line a baking sheet with nonstick liner or parchment.
Arrange carrot slices flat in 1 layer on sheet.
Bake until dry but still flexible, about 30 minutes. Leave oven on.
Wind carrot strips, one at a time around the handle of a wooden spoon in a loose spiral. Then, slip off each curl and return, seam sides down to lined baking sheet.
Return curls to oven to dry until crisp, about 60 minutes.
Cool completely.

For the cupcakes

Ingredients

4 medium carrots
1 1/2 C all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsps baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp grated nutmeg
3/4 C grape seed oil
3 large eggs
1 C packed light brown sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract

Directions

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle. Line muffin cups with paper liners (I like to double line mine).
Coarsely grate enough carrots to measure 2 cups using large teardrop holes of a box grater or food processor.
Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg in a bowl, set aside.
Whisk together oil, eggs, brown sugar, grated carrots, and vanilla in a large bowl, then stir in flour mixture until just combined.
Divide batter among muffin cups and bake until golden and a wooden pick inserted into center of a cupcake comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes.
Cool in pan on a rack 10 minutes. Remove cupcakes from pan and cool completely on rack, about 1 hour more.

For frosting

note: the original recipe calls for a really great looking icing. I opted to use a frosting. Click for the original icing recipe.

Ingredients

8 ounces light cream cheese, softened (you can use full fat but this recipe is so rich that I prefer to use the lightened version)
2 C sifted confectioner’s sugar
4 ounces (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1 tsp vanilla

Directions

Using a standing mixer or electric hand mixer, beat together butter and cream cheese.
Add-in half of the confectioner’s sugar and, with the speed on low, mix-in. Ad the other half and mix-in on low until just combined.
Add-in vanilla. Increase speed to medium and beat until combined and fluffy.
Frost cupcakes as desired, topping with candied carrot curls.
Note: if your kitchen is hot and the frosting is overly soft, pop it in the fridge for 30 minutes before frosting cupcakes.

All tarted up, no place to go

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve had stuff to do.

While this recipe is not difficult in the least, it does involve multiple phases. So while I was in the kitchen making madeleines I figured I’d add a tart to the mix.

Pastry cream is a wonderful thing to have on hand. Endlessly useful and easy to make if you’re vigilant with a whisk. I found it useful to sing Taylor Swift’s Shake it Off while whisking away. Also, it might be a good idea to double the recipe. At least in my household, pastry cream has an odd way of disappearing.

Sweet tart dough is also great to have on hand. You can make it ahead, press it into the tart pan and freeze tightly wrapped several days in advance. If you don’t mind a little danger in your life, it could also be frozen post-bar if wrapped carefully with the bottom metal disk still attached. Be sure to store it flat.

Dorie asserts, and I agree, a darker golden crust is far superior to the anemic barely baked variety. I actually prefer mine bordering on burned. But, I realize I’m not the only one eating so coppertone tan is where its at.

While I used berries for this tart, the possibilities are many depending on what looks good at the market.

This would be a fantastic dessert for a dinner party. It looks fancy and can be made well in advance.

Quick Classic Berry Tart

Dorie Greenspan, Baking from my Home to yours

For the pastry cream

This recipe has three parts, the pastry cream, the tart shell and then assembly.

Ingredients

2 C whole milk
6 large egg yolks (save the whites for macarons)
1/2 C granulated sugar
1/3 C cornstarch
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
3 1/2 TBS unsalted butter, cut into bits, at room temp.

Directions

In a smal saucepan, bring the milk to boil.
Meanwhile, in a medium, heavy bottomed saucepan, whisk the yolks together with the sugar and cornstarch until thick and well blended.
Once the milk is at a boil, remove from the heat and, while whisking the sugar mixture, drizzle-in about 1/4 cup of the hot milk to temper the eggs.
Continuing to whisk, slowly pour in the remainder of the milk. Put the pan over medium eat and, while whisking continuously and vigorously, bring the mixture to a boil. Keep it at a boil while whisking for 1-2 minutes. Remove pan from heat.
Whisk in the vanilla. Let sit for 5 minutes, then whisk in the bits of butter, stirring until they are fully incorporated and the pastry cream is smooth and silky.
Scrape cream into the bowl, press a piece of plastic wrap against the surface of the cream to create an airtight seal. Refrigerate the cream until cold.

For the tart shell

Ingredients

1 1/2 C all-purpose flour
1/2 C confectioner’s sugar
1/4 tsp salt
9 TBS (1 stick + 1 TBS) unsalted butter cut into small pieces
1 large egg yolk

Directions

In a food processor, add the confectioner’s sugar and salt. Pulse a couple of times to combine.
Scatter the pieces of butter over the dry ingredients and pulse until the butter is coarsely cut in (you should have some pieces the size of oatmeal flakes and some the size of peas.
In a small bowl, stir the yolk to break it up. Then, add to flour mixture a little at a time, processing in long, 10 second pulses in between each add until the dough forms clumps and curds.
Turn the dough onto a work surface and very slightly knead the dough just to incorporate any stray dry ingredients.
Butter a 9-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom.
Press the dough evenly over the bottom and up the sides of the pan using all but a little piece of the dough (save to fix any cracks that form later).
Freeze for at least 30 minutes. Can be wrapped tightly in plastic wrap and frozen a couple of days in advance.
To bake, center rack in oven and preheat to 375 degrees.
Butter the shiny side of a piece of aluminum foil and fit the foil, buttered side down tightly against the crust.
Place the tart on a baking sheet and bake for 25 minutes.
Carefully remove the foil. If the crust has puffed, press it down gently with the back of a spoon.
Bake for another 8 minutes or until the shell is firm and a nice golden brown.

To assemble

Ingredients

1 sweet tart shell fully baked and cooled
1 1/2 C pastry cream (I used the whole batch because this stuff is delicious)
2 pints fresh berries, grapes, stone fruit, kiwis or just about any fruit that will not turn brown when cut.
1/2 C orange marmalade (the original calls for red currant but I like that the marmalade turns fairly transparent when melted.

Directions

Smooth the pastry cream by whisking until smooth.
Spoon enough of the pastry cream into the cooled shell to come to almost the top of the rim. Smooth using an off-set spatula.
Lay the berries and/or other fruit on top of the cream in any desired pattern.
Bring marmalade to boil with 1 tsp water. Using a pastry brush, gently glaze the surface of the fruit.