Celebrations

     Last week was one of celebrations. First, I turned 41. I celebrated by baking not one, but two, unpalatable cakes. The first was a steamed chocolate pudding (i.e. the type that is common in England). I haven't made one in years, but I remembered them as very moist and flavorful, since they are steamed in a closed mold instead of baked. When I unmolded it, I found a dry and dense, but tasty, cake. It was clearly inedible as is, so I froze it* and made a back-up cake. Unfortunately, I was pressed for time and ingredients, and learned the hard way that you can't use 25-grain whole wheat bread for bread pudding. Even a large ladle of custard sauce won't cover the fact that the bread is too healthy to be used in a dessert. 

I am, well, extremely self-confident about my ability to cook, and was almost shocked that I could bake two inedible things in a row. I will have to make a lot of ice cream to build up my self confidence again...

     I also celebrated by planting two blueberry bushes, gifts from my in-laws. This is a gamble, because by friend S, an exemplary and highly knowledgeable gardener, has told me that blueberries don't grow well in Maryland. I decided to pretend I didn't hear her, and planted them anyway. I will risk two bushes, some soil acidifier, and two years' effort of watering. It's a bet I'm willing to take.

And, of course, last Thursday was the 50th anniversary of the original Star Trek airing on television. I was invited to a showing of the first episode at the Smithsonian Air & Space museum. I went with two friends who can remember watching the original series with their parents, which was pretty cool. Gene Roddenberry's son was there to answer questions, along with the two fans that organized the letter writing campaign that saved Star Trek. Watching the episode, I was amazed by several things: There are many elements that became "canon" already present in the first episode. They were telling excellent stories using the cheesiest of props and special effects. Also, the way that women were treated in the 60's BLOWS MY MIND. I knew they stood around in miniskirts, but their main role seemed to be to carry trays of food to the officers, flirt, and be openly leered at by the men. We really have come a long way.

*I think the dry cake can be rehabilitated with much sherry in a Christmas trifle.