While I was sitting at the computer snacking on nuts I looked out the window, and I had company.

aka Proper Pound Cake for People Who Practically Never Bake

I don’t break out the baking skills often.  It’s likely the reason I like doing it.  When I do, it’s a well-tried simple, foolproof recipe. Still even the simplest bake goods get rave reviews if you actually make them from scratch.  People who only visit kitchen to inspect the refrigerator contents regard you as a master alchemist and magician.  Little kids worship you and believe everything you say.  It’s quite gratifying, really.

I don’t have much of a sweet tooth which is another reason my house rarely smells like cake and cookies.  However, even I get excited for certain deserts during the holidays.  My favorite desert of all time is probably pound cake.  (I say probably, because I’m notoriously fickle about my favorites.  I had a decadent warm chocolate fudge cake once that dripped with ganache and was so good, I’d have considered selling my mother and damn near forgot my own name.  So, this favorites thing is all relative.)

Speaking of relative, the pound cake to which I refer is my Aunt Rita’s. Rita makes pound cake the proper way:  a pound of flour, pound of sugar, pound of butter, pound of eggs.  Some people mix up some yellow cake batter and parade the result around as pound cake.  That my friends, is a crime against cake, and should be against culinary law.  Call it cake if you want, but don’t tempt me with the promise of pound cake and serve me angel cake or yellow cake like I won’t know the difference.  I will my friend and trust me, I will remember. Next year you’ll get the Kentucky Fried Christmas Chicken instead of the turkey. What? It’s poultry.

I have a friend, an excellent cook and a far better-than fair baker who knows of my love for the pound cake.  In deference to me she occasionally makes pound cake for the events that she caters where a desert is on the menu.  Because she serves food that is health conscious as well as tasty , she has a modified, light recipe that she uses that’s slightly less likely to make you gain weight just by looking at it.  It’s a truly delicious and very popular variation and she makes it a few times a year.  She swears that it’s actually better than the traditional version which she has deemed as too rich.

I must say that I’m truly blessed to have such a talented friend who bakes me treats simply because it’s Tuesday and she loves me. Hardly a luckier girl exists and I adore her more than I can say.  So trust me that it is with an absolute lack of malice and not at all in the spirit of being an ungrateful wench that I state categorically that my friend is delusional and out of her freakin’ mind.

“Light” pound cake will never be superior to pound cake.  The sun does not rise in the west and set in the east. Fish do not live in the sky and birds do not live in the sea. Bears do not crap in toilets.  There are laws and rules and some things just ain’t changing.  Pound cake needs a pound of stuff.  Call it love if you want.  Just so long as you put it in the cake.

In that spirit since I’m feel all loving this year with the easy gifts, I bring you my recipe for pound cake.  It’s pretty simple, and I’m sure it’s nearly identical to any number of recipes. (Once you’ve got the whole pound thing memorized, there’s not much else to do, really.) Normally I’m the type of person who writes recipes that say things like “cook until done”. However,  I’ve annotated the instructions a bit for those who prefer some details in their instructions.  I got this from my Aunt and scribbled it down in the back of my cookbook.  I made one minor adjustment to her recipe.  As my friend wasn’t completely off base about the richness of the cake (still delusional, though not entirely wrong,) I added more flour.  Note I’m not taking anything away here, I’m adding.  So you’ve got a pound and a half of flour.  Yep, I bring the good gifts.  Actually, strictly speaking, I think you’re supposed to measure the flour, sugar and butter by weight and the eggs by volume to get your proper pounds.  This might account for the more flour bit.  I must be honest, as I’m not a baker by nature, I’m not that precise. That’s what a telephone and an Aunt who bakes is for.  I used a measuring cup and things turned out fine.  I’ve got photographic proof that it at least looks nice.  The fact that it got raided before it was even done cooling helps my argument at bit as well.  Pound cake is an easy and forgiving cake.  Pound cake loves you.

A note about flavorings and calories.  This is not a diet cake.  It’s high in sugar, fat and probably cholesterol.  That’s why it tastes good.  I suppose you could spice up your cake with a few extras.  Lemon and poppy seeds seem to be popular additions.  I find this is gilding the lily, but it’s your party.  Knock yourself out.

Proper Pound Cake for People Who Practically Never Bake (eat with friends and family you actually like)
annotated version for city folk, people without a good cookbook, scale or measurement converter and anyone else who has no idea how many eggs make up a pound.  Yields 1 bundt-sized cake or two loaves. I didn’t measure the sizes, but whatever you’ve got will probably work if it looks cake-sized.

Ingredients:
1.5 lb  flour (3 cups)
They say use sifted flour but unless you’re grinding your own or it’s been sitting in your pantry so long you forgot when you bought it, I wouldn’t sweat it.  Modern commercial flour is sifted well enough.
1 lb sugar (2 cups)
1 lb butter, room temperature
The big stick is a pound,  2 cups if you have to measure it.  I’ll talk about the room temperature later.
1 lb eggs (6 eggs)
Technically, I think they are supposed to be large, but I just use whatever I’ve got on hand.  If you’ve got the super extra jumbo eggs from mutant chickens, cut the number to 5. These should be room temperature too.
1 tablespoon vanilla
I use 2 tbsps.  I like vanilla.
1/2 cup milk
Buttermilk if you have it.  Whole milk is better than skim. That said, I usually use skim because that’s what I drink. Old milk is great, as long as it hasn’t actually curdled.  (Seriously, why are you holding onto the bad milk?)
1 teaspoon Baking Powder
1/2 teaspoon  Baking Soda
(I’m sure you know this, but just in case, I’ll say it anyway, baking soda and baking powder are different so don’t mix that up.  I don’t know what happens if you do, but I hear bad things happen.)
1/2 teaspoon salt

Instructions:
For normal altitude baking. If you live at a high altitude, you’re probably used to adapting instructions and you’ll know what to do better than I will.

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
Yes, that’s fahrenheit.  It’s pound cake.  Were you expecting metric?

Butter and flour the pan. I line the bottom of the pan with wax paper first.
Use Pam or some other cooking spray if you must, just never let me catch you doing that.

In a small bowl, blend the flour, baking soda and powder, and salt so that the ingredients are evenly distributed.
The bowl size is not remotely important here. Instructions always say ’small bowl’ when they mean you just need a place to put the stuff, no vigorous blending is required.

In large bowl, (vigorous blending ahead, make it large enough so things don’t spill over the sides) cream (mix) the butter and the sugar.  A mixer is handy here but it may be easier to get started with a plain ol’ spoon. It will look grainy at first.  It gets creamier eventually.
This is why it’s important that the butter be room temperature, because cold or frozen butter just doesn’t stir. In fact, if the butter and eggs are too cold your batter will curdle a bit (that is if you can even break the butter down).  I looked this up because as I frequently bake on a whim, I don’t often have room temperature butter and eggs handy.  I wanted to know why I couldn’t just melt the butter and stir it in for one thing.  Turns out melted butter is too warm and won’t whip into a fluffy batter.  Too hot or too cold somehow add up to the same defect. Your cake will be a bit denser than most gourmands might prefer. The good news is, as I said, pound cake is forgiving.  Any minor curdling or leaden batter will all even out as you add the flour.  So if you want a great cake, cream the butter properly. I’ve learned waiting for room temperature ingredients is worth it. If you want a good enough cake now and damn the torpedoes, if you nuke the butter into submission nothing will blow up.

Add the eggs to the creamed mixture one by one incorporating each into the mixture before adding the next. And the vanilla, milk and whatever flavorings you may be adding now. If you’re adding poppy seeds, you’re on your own. Other than on bagels and planting actual flowers I don’t like them much so I have no clue what you do with them here.

When ingredients are well blended, start adding the dry ingredients.  If you are not using a mixer, you’ll start to wish you were about now.  If buying one isn’t an option, counting helps.  Mix until all the ingredients are thoroughly blended.  Be sure to scrape down the bowl sides as you mix.
This is where people tell you not to overblend, because that will make your batter and consequently your cake too tough.  I have no idea how you avoid overblending, except to say stop when the ingredients are completely blended.  Of course, make sure the ingredients are completely blended, so you don’t get air pockets in the batter and holes in your cake.  This is why I don’t bake often.

Pour your carefully blended ingredients into your greased and floured pan. Bake for about an hour and twenty minutes.  I was told never to run around the house or drop anything during this time or else the cake might fall.  I don’t know if this is true or not.  I suspect the adults just wanted us to sit still.

I check at 1:15.  The cake should be a nice golden brown.  Stick a wooden skewer in the center.  If it comes out clean you’re done.  If not, put it back and check again later.  If it starts pulling away completely from the sides of the pan, you’ve cooked it too long, so be sure to check.    Eat your cake.  Walk the dog for an extra half hour in penance.  Or not.  I don’t feel much guilt myself.

We hope you are having a grand, safe and healthy holiday season. Love to you all!

plus a bit of ranting, because nothing is ever really free of payment in some form, is it? (If you are only reading this for the pattern skip to the end. )

It’s already been established that I’ve turned into a intermittent blogger. I’d apologize for it, but I assure you I’ve had nothing to stay that would justify making you stop by. I think that’s better blogger etiquette than wasting your time. I can’t even blame Ravelry, as NaBloPoMo established that I’m perfectly capable of daily posting if need be, though I don’t think my November posts were particularly special. That links to my NaBloPoMo profile page which I neglected to fill out. (Isn’t the whole point to put that stuff on my blog, if anywhere?) I even forgot to post my nifty badge.

That seems a bit needlessly churlish, but it was this, the doughboy, the cat, spend another half-hour perusing links for a badge or make my own, so, churlish it is. I completed NaBloPoMo successfully. It’s more than I can say for the previous years where I unsuccessfully tried my hand at NaNoWriMo. I have to admit the whole thing was a bit anti-climactic. I’m extremely glad to not have to type the word “NaBloPoMo” again. I don’t know if it speaks to the difference between blog writers and other types of writers and how they choose their words but the word doesn’t stick in the mind or roll off the tongue nearly as well as NaNoWriMo. Anyway, challenge met.

As always when I return after not posting for awhile, I’ll attempt to buy your attention with a peace offering. There has been much talk recently about the value of handicrafts from debates in several forums to articles in the New York Times both critical (not in bad way) and more fawning. Actually it’s probably not all that recent, it’s just something I’ve been paying attention to since I learned to knit and started talking to people about it on the internet. This may be tiresomely old news to you. I’m nearly tired of it after only a year. Every once in a while someone in a forum or on a blog will post a link to an item it is priced above $10. Much discussion will ensue about whether said item is worth said price. The cost of manufacturing will be analyzed, the value of work will be discussed and many people will make claims that this or that person is over or underpaid. The history of labor, feminist theory, the industrial revolution, and class analysis will come up if the conversation is a good one. The sentimental value of an object will be assessed and for some of us a PITA* tax will be levied. Of course, there’s the old capitalist standby that you should charge whatever the market will bear.

A recent posting placed the neckwarmer, pictured above and currently being offered at Martha Stewart’s website, up to the “Is it worth it?” microscope. Amongst a community of knitters the overwhelming response was a resounding NO! and several “this is like comparing apples and oranges”. There were however, a few who believe that this attitude contributed to the current climate which tends to devalue knitted goods and handmade crafts in general.

I agree that many handicrafters (I seriously can’t think of a less corny name at the moment, sorry about that) are guilty of devaluing their work whether or not they actually ever assign a price to it. As I mentioned in that forum, I consider what I do to be priceless. That’s not because I consider myself to be Da Vinci, but I don’t think a proper price can really be placed on what the objects I make mean to me. When offering an item for sale though, priceless is not practical and a formula that takes in to account the time, labor and materials used etc., must be devised to determine worth. I’ve seen a lot of formulas for determining this ranging from the sensible to the “only makes sense if you’ve been smoking weed” variety. I’ll leave it to you to decide if you think this neckwarmer is worth $94. I personally wouldn’t pay that much, but I don’t see any reason not to offer it for that price if people are willing to pay it. I suspect Martha Stewart’s marketing people know a little something about how to sell things and what the market will bear, so I’ll bow to their judgement and experience on this one. Who am I to argue with a multimillion dollar enterprise?

In the midst of this rousing discussion a newbie knitter ventured in and asked where one could find a pattern to make this neckwarmer that was the object of so much derision and alternately hailed as the symbol of the humble knitter’s right to earn a buck. In all seriousness, and with quite a bit of earnestness to boot, which I admit I thought took some balls as this was clearly not a friendly audience being addressed. It had the additional effect of boosting the argument that the knowledge of how to make a neckwarmer like this certainly has some intrinsic value, though many of us who have the skill take it for granted. After all, it’s a stockinette tube.

I’d been planning to offer a Holiday pattern anyway this year, and as the pattern I had planned is not ready -yeah, I know you’re shocked to hear that- I thought this would be a reasonable substitute. Or addition, if I ever finish that other pattern. Stop laughing.

So I now present you with my pattern (recipe, really) for How To Make a $94 Neckwarmer written for that fearless knitting newbie and shared with anyone who may be in the similar position of really wanting to warm their neck with a stockinette tube if only they could find a way for under $94 and had a little guidance. Some advice about how to sell said warmer thrown in for good measure.

The $94 Neckwarmer recipe

1. Measure your head circumference. We’ll call that measurement X units (cm, inches whatever you use).
2. Measure your stitch gauge for that unit with whatever yarn you have on hand. If you want to try and justify your markup you can go buy something expensive, but it really doesn’t matter. We’ll call the number of stitches per unit Y.
3. Multiply X times Y. We’ll call that Z.
4. To knit in the round, cast on Z stitches. (If knitting flat, skip to knitting flat instruction #1).
5. Join ends being careful not to twist the cast on row.
6. Knit to desired length. The length from your shoulders to the top of your head is a good guide.
7. Bind off and weave in ends.
8. Find sucker to buy your tube. I’d recommend a non-knitter as most knitters will laugh at you unless they are a knitter with disposal income and no time to even look for a better deal.

Flat knitting variation:

1. Cast on Z stitches plus 2. These 2 selvedge stitches will be used for the seam.
2. Knit to desired length. The length from your shoulders to the top of your head is a good guide.
3. Seam up sides using mattress stitch.
4. Bind off and weave in ends.
5. See previous note about sucker.

Copyright © phoenix 2007. All rights reserved.

So here you go, free to anyone who reads this blog (or the forum thread I posted it in).  Please note that these are instructions for a tube in stockinette stitch. For anything more elaborate, I really must insist that I get paid. I had considered offering it for $10 as is but I was struck by the holiday spirit.  Furthermore, this pattern has not been tested, except by the collective knitting wisdom of knitters from the dawn of the craft. If I had to hire actual test knitters do you really think I’d be offering this pattern for free? 

I am kidding, but only a little.  It’s unlikely I’d ever charge for such a pattern unless I was raising money for charity.  I wouldn’t do so because I feel this is information that is easy available and  is worth sharing without monetary compensation the same way I wouldn’t charge to teach someone how to tie a shoe.  I’m not quite that mercenary despite my protesting pocketbook.  That’s not to say that the information has no value at all.  If I wrote that pattern up with pictures, diagrams, definition and explanation of terms like stockinette and descriptions of ways to cast on and bind off, that pattern would have even more value.  If I added some discussion about yarn types and gauge, the value of the information goes still higher. It would also take me more time to develop.  At a certain point I could have invested enough in writing a pattern for that stockinette tube, that I might even be able to make an argument for selling it for $10.  

As I mentioned, I posted the free version of my pattern to the thread . Right on cue, someone asked if it’s possible to copyright a stockinette tube. Actually they asked if they could copywrite it, which is something else entirely, and not what I think they meant. However, as I’m prone to the occasional typo and grammatical error myself and as I know most people are not editors and don’t have their english teachers proofing their writing, I wasn’t about to get all self-righteous and picky about it. Except the question comes up so often it actually grates on my nerves to read it even though it’s not an unreasonable question. To be honest my post started out as something of a joke, but now I’m totally letting the copyright stand to make a point.

Look, I don’t claim to be an expert on copyright and I probably only know enough to be dangerous. Anyway, please note that I am not claiming to copyright the tube, merely the instructions. For what I understand of copyright law, this is what you are doing when you copyright a pattern. You are copyrighting the words, diagrams, illustrations, photos everything that makes up the pattern itself. You are not claiming to have been the only person ever to think of an idea, just the person who presented it a certain way. You are claiming ownership of your words, labour, materials and efforts in writing the pattern. It makes sense to me, but a surprising number of people have difficulty with the concept. I have a lot of theories about that, though I don’t think I’ll be sharing those here. I’m not making any claim to having invented stockinette tubes, knit and purl stitches, knitting as a technique or the english language. I did however, make that pattern up all by myself. And shared it with you. If you don’t like mine, write your own and use your own words, not mine. It really is a simple concept. It’s also not a copyright issue, it’s a plagiarism issue, but that’s another discussion and can of worms.

I’ll admit copyright is not a simple issue, for a discussion on the subject contact a lawyer who specializes in it. Here’s some links to copyright facts and actual informed opinions.

The U.S. Copyright Office

Creative Commons Licenses

Crochet Patterns, Knitting Patterns and Copyright Law

Copyright FAQ for Knitters

Copyright for Crafters 

That can at least take care of some of the simpler questions. If copyright interests you, but you don’t really know much about it, I would strongly encourage you to read those links and other sources that have some actual facts about copyright and not the ridiculous myths that get parroted about as fact. For instance, if someone tells you that if you change X percentage of a pattern you can call it your own, run away from them. Actually, point them to those links first, then run away and stop talking to them until they gain some deeper knowledge because ignorance is catching and I’d be very sad to see it catch you.

Frankly I’d give up any claims of copyright altogether if I could get a dollar every time someone asked “What makes a design original, anyway?”, “What does it mean to be a designer? , “What is this item actually worth?” or any similar questions that make the rounds on forums practically daily. If I could get a dollar for that, I wouldn’t need a day job, a winning lottery ticket, a good run at the casino, or a dead, rich relative. I’d just sit back and let the money roll in. And spend my time trying to finding a way to patent my system to maintain my ability to make a profit. A patent of course being different than copyright. You can look that up too.

*This photo has been lifted from the marthastewart.com website © 2007 Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia, Inc. All rights reserved, and used for a product review, which I believe falls under the terms of fair use. The photoshop manipulation is mine and are done in the spirit of parody, which I also believe is covered and permitted within the bounds of copyright law. I consider that type of thing fun. If you click through to the Martha Stewart website and buy something, make sure to tell them I sent you. Hopefully they won’t sue me that way. But I really don’t think copyright works like that anyway. I could of course be wrong.  In which case I’ll take the picture down because it’s not like I’ll have a choice.

**Pain in the ass (though in this case a B.S. - bored stiff - tax might be more applicable)

So remember my frustration with lifelines and black mohair?  Progress has been made.  It’s about 40% done at the moment so I think it’ll be done in time for Christmas.  I’d write more, but seriously?  I’ve got knitting to do.

The pod picture I took a couple of days back reminded me of these pictures I took a while ago of decidedly less friendly-looking pods.

These are alien indeed.

I’m vaguely fascinated by pods and the things that spill out of them when they open. There’s something so alien about them and the way they “pop!” This one is actually pretty enough to be considered a flower.  I have no idea what it is -possibly something I’d recognize more easily in it’s spring incarnation.  They must have been around here forever, I just never remember noticing them before.

I have been tagged to participate in a meme by snarkattack. I’m quite flattered by the attention.  I’m supposed to share with you seven random or weird things about myself.  Ingrid, however, beat snarkattack to the punch back in May though so I’ll just direct any meme lovers to my responses to her meme.  There’s an extra thrown in for good measure.  At some point, I actually even started writing up one of those 100 things about me pages that I sometimes see, just for occasions such as these, but I just never got around to it.  I have to admit, coming up with these things about myself doesn’t really hold my interest too well.  I think it would be infinitely more entertaining to write up 7 weird and random things I’ve noticed about other people and their blogs.  Of course there is some potential for that to devolve into a rather unfortunate social experiment quite quickly.  Probably not an idea that will catch on.  It’s been foggy here lately, perhaps giving the impression that I’ve up and moved to San Francisco. While I’m not at all adverse to that idea, being that I love San Francisco which I associate with crab and chocolate, that hasn’t actually happened yet. If it stays like this, I may just start pretending I’m there. That way it will feel more like a treat than a commuting nuisance. A San Francisco treat! (Sorry, I haven’t gotten out today.)Amy pointed out that I never actually mentioned what I was knitting a couple of days ago that required a lifeline. That is part of my mother’s Christmas present, is a pattern of my own creation and as of this moment, does not have an actual name though I do have one in mind. It’s a bit like having a baby, I’m waiting to see what the personality of the piece is before I commit to a name. Currently I have about 13 inches of knitting so I’m happy about that. (No pictures, the surprise factor, plus the fog has made it a bit too dark/damp for me to get a decent picture of the black stitches anyway.) The biggest challenge at the moment has been keeping it free of dog hair. While dog hair is not a problem for me, I do try and knit gifts and objects for other people in dog-free zones. It makes for lonely knitting. Amy also reminded me to listen to more Decemberists. Always a good idea. Music helps me not miss the dog.*Baba Wawa’s infamous query to Katherine Hepburn who seemed quite surprised to be asked. Likely paraphrased as I was too lazy to look up the exact words.