Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
I just made 100 of these little doo-dads. They're sandwich cookies, so that means 200 times (if you don't count the last 8 I burned in the oven while heating up lunch) I cut out the shapes, dipped them in egg, then into colored sugar ... before being baked, cooled, and glued together with buttercream.
I got the recipe from my Omi a couple of years ago, and have since made them with my family members', including Omi's, help. But this is my first attempt on my own. They were puffier than hers, so I didn't roll out the dough thin enough and probably didn't let the dough rest long enough; but man, they are light as a feather and sure are tasty.
So I'm pretty pleased right now; if not totally exhausted.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
I love it when I fall in love with a band so hard that it takes all I have to keep from talking about them ... all. the. friggin'. time.
I hate it when said band is fronted by a very dear friend, so it sounds like sycophancy of the highest degree if I publish good press about them.
But let's face facts. This is neither the Times nor the Trib. It isn't even the Post. Hell, my only audience is my family and friends ... so screw it.
Therefore, in absolutely no disingenuous terms, let it be understood that The Hobo Wives have been one of my new favorite bands since last April when I first heard them all together at the Lemmons show.
I'd heard their rough tracks before the show; but once they took the stage, it became obvious that the talented outfit's fabric was so tight-knit that the songs pretty much play themselves. The songwriting is stellar, the sound is incredibly rich and completely alive, and all of the musicians and vocalists are, in a word, gifted. Since then, I just can't seem to get enough of the lush melodies and jangly guitars that tell their alt-twangy melancholy tales of woe.
It's not completely unrelated that I have always appreciated and very much believed in Matt Kahler's songwriting since we met. After 10 years of friendship, a 400 mile move to the north, and a rich compilation of competent musicians and vocalists in his arsenal, he seems to have finally found solid footing as the musician I always knew resided within.
As a friend, I couldn't be happier for him. Personally, I couldn't be happier for me; and no, not just with the satisfaction that comes with being right. Their brand of southern-fried rock is just what the doctor ordered to soothe the aches that accompany these days of financial uncertainty.
It's relatable, believable, and damn catchy.
Which is why I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if we heard a lot more from this group once they're finished in the studio and start out on tour.
Until then, please to enjoy their available tracks on MySpace: