17 January 2012

Open For Business

Sort of. It's only slightly on the DL.

You who have followed my blog for any length of time know that I like to cook. I recently started a new blog, The House Husband, to kind of separate that hobby from my indoor/general gardening obsession--at least, online, so that it makes more sense to visit The Indoor Garden(er). The House Husband joins Bagging The Baggage and Agritate in my new series of blogs to help separate content into more digestible streams--I started feeling like The Indoor Garden(er) was too much of a random catch-all, that I had lost focus, and that I might be confusing people with the content I post under the assumption that it's going to be garden-related on the basis of the blog title, description, and general content. I can't say I've been consistent posting on any of these new locations, but I do of course intend to be. I'm still working on getting into some sort of routine after moving back to DC, but without any actual steady schedule (read: work), I've found it difficult to corral my own activities.

Part of that difficulty is the myriad choices I can make: Go freelance full-time? Try for an office job? Quit the rat race and join the food industry? I've attempted some combination of all of the above since I returned to the US in August--I've freelanced a bit, I've searched for full-time office jobs, and I spent a few months in the food industry (and technically, I'm still in it as Whisked!'s bakery assistant, but work is infrequent at the moment now that the markets are over for the season). The lack of direction has made it difficult for me, generally--it's hard to hammer something down when you're aiming at many separate nails all at once (like Whack-A-Mole, except a bit more frantic and with more life-affecting consequences).

But, eventually, the effort will yield something. I have some freelance opportunities, and I'm pursuing the food industry angle a bit more proactively now, too. I registered for the DC Grey Market on 28 January. The Grey Market is a place where unregistered food businesses can go to sell their product--shoppers buy a ticket ahead of time and acknowledge that they understand the food they'll buy at the market was prepared in a non-health-inspected kitchen or somesuch, and we vendors get the opportunity to sell our products we make in our home kitchens.

It's difficult to be a small food business in DC (probably in a lot of places, I'd imagine), but I know so many people in the area who have succeeded, and it's been something of a simmering dream of mine--I think it's actually a genetic predisposition. Everyone in my family (and, it seems, my beau's, too) has dreamed of opening some sort of food establishment. While I was a child, my dad had a crab truck for a few years--he went to the docks every weekend, bought a ton of crabs, cooked them in the truck and sold them on the side of the road. This was definitely before the lunch-food-truck craze of the past few years, but then, a half-bushel of crabs is totally not an appropriate meal for an office setting, eh?

What I'm doing, however, is slightly different--I love interacting with the customer, and I'm thinking a farmers' market would be a wonderful place to get myself into in the future. So I'm testing the Grey Market. I'm bringing a bunch of different items, to see what people are interested in and whether it seems as if I could make anything of a profit. I'm calling myself "The Experimental Oven," for various reasons: I work under a trial-and-error scientific method; I like to be creative; I'm not baking, exclusively: I have a variety of products I plan on making; I never follow a recipe exactly, even if I'm doing it for the first time; and there's always something that makes each batch of what I make special, whether I ran out of milk and had to use a substitute or whether I accidentally had the temperature at 425 instead of 325 and had to reduce the bake time. I'm going to have to become a little more consistent if I want to start selling product to customers on a regular basis, but part of the name also implies that because everything I make is small-batch artisan foods, there will be some variation from week to week as I play around with the recipes.

What I consider to be a less-complicated but also less financially thrilling is doing wholesale orders for cafes or somesuch. I have a few ins that I could surely follow to make some of my specialty scones, biscotti, or random packaged goods such as hummus, pimiento cheese, or what-have-you. But wholesale is large-batch, low-cost: I'd have to make a ton of product to make the same amount of money I might at a market, because of the resale aspect, although the steady, more-certain income has its appeal.

After I try this Grey Market thing, I have to see whether I make enough money (after ingredient costs and other expenses) to consider doing it on a regular basis. I have to take into account rent for registered commercial kitchen space, the incorporation fees for the business, transportation, vendor fees, and insurance. There are probably other large expenses I'm forgetting at the moment (perhaps a stand mixer?), but there are a lot of start-up costs and a ton of things to hammer out if this is to become a reality. At least I'll soon have a logo--I had a meeting last night with blogger/foodie/friend FoodNewsie, who designed DC State Fair's first advertising back in 2010. He's working on a logo design for The Experimental Oven. I'm a logo virgin--I've never had one, and I'm totally excited about this!

21 December 2011

My Metro Adventure

Yesterday, I posted this without any text or explanation. I was using it as a quick repository to share with reporters. I was on an Orange line train (sometime before 9:39, which is when I wrote an e-mail to my beau) heading to Rosslyn for an interview when a part of a brake in the train ahead of mine hit the electrified third rail. It caused a bunch of smoke, gigantic sparks/flames, and a bit of panic in the train. Most people were pretty damn chill--it was actually fun in some ways, because we were just sitting around joking and ribbing on Metro.

There are plenty of articles from news sources out there, so I'm just going to focus on my own fun experience.

First, I'll start with transcriptions of a couple e-mails I wrote to my beau detailing a few of the more fun experiences.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011 9:39 AM
Subject: Fire on my train
Message: Yay


Tuesday, December 20, 2011 10:15 AM
Subject: 40 minutes later...
Message: The train stopped. It started getting smoky. The door to the next car opened and a wryly smiling man said "The next car's on fire." We started walking toward the last car while one woman freaked out, we were all milling and joking. Then we finally decided to open the door (keep in mind that the driver has not yet contacted us, so we were unsure what to do) and walk back to L'Enfant. But four people were walking back toward the train, telling us Metro employees said to get back into the train because the air quality was too poor outside the train. So instead, we are sitting here in a smoky train inhaling all these fumes for an unknown amount of time. The driver came on the speakers and said "Help is on the way." We're like, "Um, it's been 40 minutes. Why aren't they HERE?"

And he just came back on and said that help is on the way--still. Anyway. Maybe eventually I'll get to my interview.


Tuesday, December 20, 2011 10:50 AM
Subject: "If we're anywhere near a platform, we'll get you off the train."
Message: Serious? They don't know where we are???

Lol these people on the train with me are awesome. We are joking and laughing.


Tuesday, December 20, 2011 11:08 AM
Subject: I just videotaped our channel 4 news live interview
Message:


Tuesday, December 20, 2011 11:25 AM
Subject: Oh no!
Message: I've been told I must take my stilettos off when I get to the ladder in 30 minutes. Damnit!

And now some photos!


Milling around wondering what to do--no word from the train conductor, emergency buttons weren't working, and we weren't sure whether it was safe to leave the train or not. Not that that stopped some people (read below).


I ended up wrangling open an emergency door (some didn't work) and tried to walk back to the platform, but I was told by returning train riders that Metro employees told them to get back on the train--the air quality was too poor in the tunnel and it was safer on the train. For 2 hours, we breathed the smoky air (some doors were open, remember?) and as we lined up to evacuate hours later, I asked why the track lights had just gone out--I was told by a fire fighter that they were operating on batteries that last only 2 hours. The electrified third rail had shorted out and the power was turned off when our train hit the other part on the rail. There was no actual danger, really, from the get-go--we should have left.


Anyway, we milled around for a while. I ate my bagel and drank my coffee. 30 or 40 minutes into the ordeal, the conductor finally came on to say that Metro was looking into what happened and that we should stay calm. Once he stopped his five-second spurt of lip-flapping, the train riders around me went up in a roar about how frustrating that was--waiting so long for any contact with Metro or our conductor, and all we got was "We're looking into what happened, stay calm"?


A little after 11, fire fighters came around to tell us they were starting to evacuate the train. I was in the last car with passengers, so it took a while. I tried taking pictures of people walking down the tunnel.



This one was a bit better.


For the number of emergency-response vehicles blocking traffic around the Smithsonian metro exit, we surely didn't have the help we would have expected down in the tunnel. I admit, the four or five fire fighters down there with us were great--they were just as frustrated with Metro as we were (they couldn't get the emergency doors open, either).

Next up, videos.


This video is an example of the awesome people in the train car with me. We were joking left and right, keeping it together without losing our composure. The set up for this joke is that Metro had already reported to news organizations that all passengers had been evacuated. We were postulating ways they'd deal with us. The most popular theory was that they would just seal up the tunnel with us inside and deny that the Orange line ever existed.


This is our live interview with News 4. When we learned that Metro was lying about us being down here, putting their spin on the incident (calling it an "obstruction" rather than an "equipment malfunction and crazy sparky-flame-smoke") and trying to look better than their actions would paint them, we called news organizations to let them know that we were, in fact, still trapped underground.


When we finally got out of the train, there were almost as many fire fighters, police officers, news crews, and Metro employees as there were train passengers. It took them 2.5 hours to get in line and find flashlights to guide us out, it seemed--we weren't told they were doing anything else.

07 December 2011

Stink Flower Part 2



My Stapelia grandiflora bloomed today! Around 11 AM, I noticed that one petal had popped out of the balloon--while doing something on the other side of the plant shelf a few minutes later, I heard a little *pop* and saw that the entire flower had blossomed.

This excites me greatly. I wonder if I can self-fertilize the bloom? I do so like to start things from seed, not that I expect any children to be very different from their parent.

03 December 2011

Stink Blossom



I have had this Stapelia (either gigantea or grandiflora) since early September and it has been in bud for a few weeks now, and it's looking about ready to burst! It's even made a couple of friends--you can see about three other buds coming along right behind the main one, and there's another starting on some new vegetative growth on the other side of the plant. Although I've had a few buds before, through various complications, I have never had a Stapelia bloom on me. I'm hopeful for this one!

27 November 2011

Kudzu Up The Wazoo

While walking around for a few hours the other week with my horticulturalist friend, we ran across this (open for a larger version):



It's an entire hillside and several trees completely covered by frost-damaged kudzu (Pueraria montana). Of course, kudzu is edible: kudzu jam, kudzu perfume, kudzu syrup, kudzu in salad, kudzu in quiche, stuffed kudzu leaves--I can think of a bajillion different uses! I wouldn't eat it, however. One never knows what's been sprayed when on these invasive plants in public areas. It's really not uncommon to eat it, I don't think--I find a ton of recipes when I search "kudzu recipes" on Google.

The kudzu was everywhere along the embankment at Walter C. Pierce Community Park, which, I have gathered, used to be a more vibrant gathering spot with a community garden and such. I like it now anyhow--I use it often to cut across Rock Creek Park. There's a dog park area, a basketball court, a playground, and a large grassy field, and it's just down the road from the parcours in Woodley Park (an outdoor fitness area that I always think might be fun to use but never get around to actually using). Walter Pierce Park is just south of the National Zoo--if you look behind the trees on the right, you can see a greenhouse structure on what I'm pretty sure is the Zoo's property.

About 15 years ago, an article was published about a group arguing with the Zoo about allowing a historic property to go untended in a successful effort to block the construction of a mulching facility. There's a sentence at the end that the hubbub group turned its attention to battle the Zoo's use of herbicide to fight the kudzu growing at the park--it's unclear whether they won that battle or not, because kudzu is so frakkin' tenacious, the Zoo's use of herbicide may not have had a real impact anyway. Fifteen years later, it seems that the historic building is still standing--as is the kudzu.