birthday pupcakes

What do Andre 3000, Vincent Price and Henry Kissinger all have in common?

They share a birthday with a very special pup named Arlie Bean:

I did not know Arlie (seen above in August 2007) until three months after his birth. He weighed only three pounds, played with his reflection in mirrors and dug at the base of trees because he had yet to figure out squirrels ran up them, not under. He's an active animal, but has nothing but love for every person and animal he crosses. And last year for his birthday, I started my homemade dog treat habit by making him these pupcakes (which I replicated Wednesday evening).

While I was busy shredding these carrots, Arlie learned that he loved carrots in spite of years of denial. It may have been because I was using the cheese shredder and he did not recognize the difference.

My roommate's father has a hobby farm in Wisconsin. We are overflowing with tiny eggs from his fancy, free-range chickens. Since they were so small, I decided to use six instead of the instructed three.

Note: the above photo is the "before" baking and the below is the "after". Since the recipe lacks a leavener, like baking powder, the batter does not change much in appearance. Feel free to fill the cups up as full as you please. They will not overflow.

Now I made the mistake of adding too much applesauce to the cream cheese, so my icing was not as fluffy as I would prefer. Dogs don't really give two wags, so I suppressed my anxious drive for perfection. And just because you're slightly dying inside doesn't mean you can't add a little flare with dog food sprinkles or Cesar Filet Mignon Softies.

And what can I say, Arlie (and his sister Etta) devoured the birthday treat. Remember to remove the paper liners before you serve. Unlike what I absent-mindedly thought last year, dogs do not eat around them.

Birthday Pupcakes (Carrot Cake Dog Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Icing)
from Dog Treat Kitchen

Makes: 8

Ingredients

Cake
2 cups shredded carrots
3 eggs
1/2 cup applesauce, unsweetened
2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 cup rolled oats
3 cups whole wheat flour

Icing
8 oz. low fat cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup applesauce, unsweetened

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
2. Lightly spray cups of muffin tin (or use paper wrappers, but make sure to remove paper wrappers before feeding to pups).
3. In a large bowl stir together the carrots, eggs and applesauce. Set aside.
4. In another medium bowl whisk together the cinnamon, oats and flour.
5. Slowly mix in the dry ingredients. Stir until well blended.
6. Spoon mixture into muffin tin. The dough will be thick and will not rise very much, so don't worry about over filling the tin.
7. Bake for 25 minutes.
8. Cool completely on a wire rack before frosting or serving.
9. For icing, blend both ingredients with a hand mixer.

2011 in polaroids

In September 2010, my parents' home, which sits on a bluff in Pine Island, Minnesota, was among thousands of homes that suffered from flood damage in southern Minnesota. The basement was submerged and my parents spent the entire winter cleaning carpets and throwing away relics stashed from the past. When visiting in March 2011, an unfamiliar rainbow cube caught my eye in the damp laundry room. Inside the worn, colorful box was my father's Polaroid Super Shooter Land Camera, a $5 purchase from a thrift store in the seventies. I brought that camera back to the Twin Cities with me and it accompanied me for most of the year.

Joshua Tree, California — April 2011

A month after finding the camera, I flew to Los Angeles to visit my boyfriend. We took a vacation to the Mojave Desert and stayed at the famous Joshua Tree Inn & Motel. I brought along color and black and white film, only to find the black and white finicky. It only produced one nice photo at the very end of the pack.

Minneapolis, MN — May 2011

Sanden flew into Minneapolis for the wedding of Molly Bloom and Andy Ducett and little did we know hard winds were following. The day these photos were taken, I had brought Sanden to Art-a-Whirl to see my Artcrank poster. The clouds rolled in menacingly and we decided to head back to Uptown. While we fled Northeast Minneapolis, a violent tornado struck North Minneapolis, separated only by Highway 94. Unaware of the disaster just a few miles away, we played in the rain.

Memorial Day, Minneapolis, MN — May 2011

Memorial Day felt like a regular Monday this year. My savior after a hard holiday spent at work was a barbecue thrown by Jared A. May.

My Birthday — June 2011

I took these photos just before Etta jumped into my face and gave me a fat lip. And that happened just before my roommate ambushed me in our own apartment with a surprise party.

Rock the Garden, Minneapolis, MN — June 2011

I didn't have the stomach to take on Rock the Garden in its entirety this year, especially a rainy one. So we stood outside the fence and tapped our toes to what we could hear of Neko Case's set.

Strawberry Basket, Monticello, MN — June 2011

Strawberries make a popping noise when you pull them off the vine. I picked a pound more than I needed to make strawberry jams because of this discovery.

Gold Rush, Oronoco, MN – August 2011

Etta slipped a disc before the Bark at Art poster show and the next four weeks were spent trying to keep her comfortable while under medical treatment during a incessant heat wave. She did enjoy being carried around Gold Rush.

Casey Quinn's Memorial – August 2011

Casey's tribute was my first experiment with Flash Cubes. Like the goal to launch 34 lanterns for Casey's 34th birthday, the cubes proved to be rather unsuccessful. I ended up sharing the photography of Justin Mueller when I blogged about the event.

Minnesota State Fair – September 2011

These photos were suppose to be a part of a blog post about the Fair that never came intro fruition due to some scanner issues. But the highlights were the heat, the food, the group karaoke, the food and the glitter bombing.

Oktoberfest and Amery, Wisconsin – October 2011

Arlie raced in the St. Paul Dachshund Races and performed well above expectations. He also had the opportunity to meet the Kaiser, himself. After our Oktoberfest adventure we visited my cousin in Amery, Wisconsin, where I spent summers as a child.

new year's resolution: accomplished

At the end and beginning of each year, my twitter feed is twice beaten over by hashtags marking the creation and progress of New Year's Resolutions. As if being trapped inside during the winter wasn't bad enough, now people feel the need to impress upon the world every boring gluten-free calorie they intake and photos of every weather-neglecting, frivolous outfit they appropriated in their quest to look like Zooey Deschanel. You get my drift. By April, most of the design-a-day blogs are abandoned and I have been annoyed by these pursuits of nothing for nothing.

If you google searched every phrase I've ever uttered, "I'm perfect" will deliver "Did you mean: 'well-intentioned'?". I have failed to stay with the time-suck that was flat-track derby. Ten pounds were gained this year, instead of lost (see: quitting derby). My long-distance boyfriend and I are still a year-long blinking contest: who will move first? There were minor goals that failed as well like finding an image for the 100 Most Beautiful Words in the English Language. And my journey to an exclusively plant-based, whole foods diet is resembling more a plight.

At the end of 2010, there were a lot of articles being passed around about the "social reality" in relation to the goals or resolutions we make. We achieve enough satisfaction by informing others of our dreams that we feel less committed to actually finishing them. Derek Sivers talked about it on TED (here's his write up):

Around the same time, I had an idea and I was determined not to tell a single person until it was accomplished. This goal was to play in front of a crowd.

Play what, Jordan? The Sims for an audience? You're going to have to put in a lot more effort than not telling anyone.

Shut up, brain, or I'll stab you with a Q-tip. I know that. And I ignored that until the end of July when I purchased my mandolin. In mid-August, I started picking away at Keep on the Sunnyside and Down in the Valley with Brianna Lane. In October, she sheepishly smiled at me and asked if I wanted to join the Fall Recital being held by Twin Town Guitars. It was being held at the Whiskey Junction and I would be able to enjoy whiskey, children's performances and the ukulele group as well. My secret New Year's Resolution had its opportunity. Yes. I would play a recital despite not having the excuse of being eight years-old should I mess up.

Saturday evening, I arrived at the venue to find that the children I'd be following were very, very adorable and talented. As the youngin's portion of the program ended, they filtered out with their parents to be replaced by genuine Whiskey Junction clientele. Not what I exactly signed up for. Where were the parents who were going to sympathize with me? I'm in my mid-twenties and trying something new here! I need low expectations.

Oh well, Melissa Lo documented my travels through the many stages (get it) of stage fright.

While we were waiting, I showed off how I now have to cut my left hand's nails extremely short to be able to capture the best tone on the mandolin. I am constantly and unnecessarily pointing this detail out to avoid people assuming I'm like Curley of Of Mice and Men. Everyone's mind travels to subversive sexual details mentioned in Steinbeck novels from 1937, right? (I am not missing a digit either, this photo was just caught funny.)

These are the eyes of a woman who is not used to doing this. In this picture, I'm secretly plotting to throw the music stand into the nice man here, jump the four feet from the stage to the ground and then exit without cracking my mandolin on the skull of one of the few remaining children.

The shadow of this stand conveniently hides how I have wet my stretch pants.

Oh no, I'm smiling like a ten year-old who knows someone's taking a photo of them.

The beginning was awful. I don't even know what song I was singing. The words were coming out but probably in a tune closer to Barney's I Love You versus Will the Circle be Unbroken. Brianna looks rightfully afraid.

I found if I closed my eyes firmly, I could only feel the dead pan stare of 150 middle-aged motor cyclists.

It's over! No one boo'd and I was greeted with encouraging praise despite missing most of the chord changes and barely meeting the remedial vocal requirements to perform this little diddy. Will I do it again? Yes. And better.

I would like to thank Jared A. May and Melissa Lo for showing up and taking photos and video of this whole ordeal. The video? That will be sent to no one other than Sanden Totten, another I would like to thank. He's been a great support in helping me accomplish all these crazy dreams of mine, even from a couple thousand miles away. Forest Taylor, Arlie and Etta have tolerated my endless practicing over the last few months like champs. And I'd like to thank Brianna Lane, who is an excellent and creative teacher.

icarly spaghetti tacos

When Proximity started working with Dolphin Entertainment, we began pitching the show What's Up Warthogs to Family Channel. Research had to be done so I spent a weekend (and a couple months following) watching Nickelodeon. I wanted to take a nail gun to my head while viewing Sponge Bob Square Pants and Big Time Rush. Shows like Victorious were slightly sufferable.

But iCarly struck a chord with me. It somewhat follows the disappointing model of tween shows that focus on fame as an important value, but these aren't kids who are going to a special high school to become the next big boy band or dancer. I mean, there is nothing Bieber about online segments like this:

It's just silly. If anything, iCarly, a show about three teenagers making a web show (with an amazing set, high-tech camera equipment, live special effects—all housed in Carly's 25-year-old artist brother's two story, Seattle apartment), encourages kids to display their unique abilities and perspectives. They even reward viewers' creativity by posting fan videos on iCarly.com and in the episodes, which I think is super cool and wish they'd show mine.

It wasn't long before I found other iCarly fans over the age of 13. Prodigy designer Julie Nagan caught a couple of my tweets about the show and soon a friendship was formed around making burritos and watching several episodes in one sitting. It took about nine months, but finally, we got up the nerve to make the favorite dish of Carly, Sam, Freddie and Spencer, Spaghetti Tacos:

Here it is:
Get taco shells.
Get spaghetti (with meat sauce).
Get a BIG spoon.
Use the BIG spoon to put spaghetti into taco shells.
Eat.
Burp.

Both Julie and I share a voluntary, ethics-based diet which does not call for an ingredient called-out in iCarly's recipe, so we replaced it with our favorite substitute for that said ingredient in everything: fresh vegetables.

Like iCarly, we had an audience watching our every move.

We call this appetite appeal in the industry.

I tried my hardest not to break a shell, yet as I tried to configure a prop for one glorious food money shot, it gave way.

Now I know what you're thinking, "Jordan, this is a food post, but where is the animated gif?" We took many of the first bites, but there is no classy way to eat a taco that will ensure future employment in a respectable industry. But how will you know that they were good? Julie and I went back for seconds AND thirds.

I would like to thank Julie Nagan for the photography and Forest Taylor for being a taste-tester (to ensure it wasn't our fanaticism that kept us crunching). Forest described them as:

Carb-y.

When asked how they tasted, Forest said:

Like spaghetti in taco shells.

And if he liked them:

Yeah.

So there you have it, folks, and for your sake, we elaborated on the iCarly original recipe and defined the parameters of it. So prepare your family for a Mexican-Italian-American fusion feast in 5… 4… 3… 2…

Spaghetti tacos
altered from iCarly

Makes: 4 servings | Prep Time: 20 min | Total Time: 20 min

Ingredients 

8 hard taco shells
2 cups uncooked spaghetti (about 4 cups cooked)
2 tbsp olive oil
2 cups spaghetti sauce
1/4 cup chopped zucchini
1/4 cup chopped red pepper
1/4 cup chopped red onion
1/4 cup chopped mushrooms
1 garlic clove
Shredded mozzarella and parmesan

Preparation

1. Preheat oven according to your taco shells' packaging instructions. Prepare spaghetti according to packaging instructions.
   
2. In a sauce pan over a medium heat, heat olive oil. When oil is heated, add zucchini, red pepper and red onions. Add salt and pepper to taste. Sautee until onions become slightly transparent, add mushrooms and garlic. When mushrooms begin to soften, add spaghetti sauce. Heat until sauce begins to bubble.
   
3. Bake your taco shells.
4. Carefully add spaghetti to your taco shell using tongs. With spoon, top spaghetti with your sauce and vegetables. Top with mozzarella and parmesan cheese.

oktoberfest and amery, wi

Madcap cooking adventures aside, this weekend I broke out the Polaroid Super Shooter with an aging pack of black and white film. I don't share all of my photos (I had an entire post about the Minnesota State Fair that never came to fruition because I couldn't access a scanner until everyone was sick of hearing about SPAMcurds) and this post doesn't contain a necessary reason, so I'll keep it short.

Arlie met the Kaiser at St. Paul's Oktoberfest. Arlie, Etta and I are a part of a meetup group called Dachshunds Making a Difference (whose proceeds benefit the rescue I adopted Etta from, Coast to Coast Dachshund Rescue) and this month, the gang was participated in this Oktoberfest celebration's dachshund races. As the Kaiser announced prior to the race, Oktoberfest is a 201 year old celebration of a marriage that originally held horse races. Since it's pretty difficult to obtain a license for such an event on Rice Street, they went with racing small German dogs.

As for how Arlie did in the races? We came close, which was an upset for me. Arlie was just happy to get the cheese I held for him at the finish line.

After the races, Arlie's pit crew and cheering section crossed the street to dance polka and enjoy authentic Deutsch cuisine (um, a sausage with kraut and pretzel) prepared in food trucks.

When I was not mourning the meal I created for the trip to Amery, WI, my cousin and I went to visit the home that once was our family cabin. My uncle Ross and aunt Mary sold the cabin a few years before Mary passed away in 2009, but the current owners didn't mind (a.k.a. were not home) that we explored the grounds. It seemed so unfamiliar. All the danger was missing as the deck, dock and stairs have been replaced with modern materials. How are you suppose to get a splinter to go with your horsefly bite? The house is brown instead of rust and the neighboring shack has been demolished to be an empty lot. Oh well, all's fair in love and real estate, but one thing didn't change:

Lake Wapogasset still looks like all my favorite memories from the original Parent Trap. And autumn is a such a funny season when you live in a climate doomed to six solid months of winter. It's a time where people are holding onto summer with their right hand while premeditively bringing along the winter coat in their left. But so is spring. The lake was missing the speed boats and pontoons, but docks still dabbled at the water's edge, hoping tomorrow will be another of these indian summer days. I didn't spend much of autumn in Amery, WI growing up. It was a summer tradition, but it seemed appropriate to say goodbye to the old cabin on a day like this.

One final note: thank you Phineas and William, BBDO's ever trusty receptionists, for scanning my photos.