A Tempting Slice of Mushroom and Onion Quiche

Stearns Quarry Park

This afternoon I went for a bike ride and stopped for a break at Stearns Quarry Park. From the street the park looks like nothing more than a mound covered in clumps of straggling prairie grass. But hidden behind the mound is a magical landscape of flowing water and limestone.  On a whim I had tossed my camera into the rack-top bag on the back of my bike, so I was able to get a few photos of the local fauna. Rats are admittedly pretty common in the city, especially in the vicinity of water. Rats this shade of red and violet are less common I think.

The pegasus I believe is a pretty rare sighting. Sometimes by the lakeshore there are infestations of dragon flies. Hordes of them swirling and dive-bombing and circling. In the courtyard of my building there are a couple of butterfly bushes and most afternoons a couple of butterflies drop in to prove the worth of the plants' name. The neighborhood where I live is renowned for the parrots living in the park canopies. But a pegasus I've never seen within the city limits. Until today.

Still Looking

Ant

From Origami Insects

An Eleven Inch Square of Paper Circle O-Gami Super-Thin Series and Three Hours Later

In my insomniac origami browsing I've encountered repeated references to Origamido paper, produced in a studio out of Haverill, Massachusetts. People wax ecstatical about the joys of this paper.  Sounds wonderful, except it is not available for purchase online. In fact it is only available in limited supply, and by appointment no less. After reading about how much difference it makes to work with a better paper, I've been wanting to see for myself. Some additional browsing then turned up a series of reviews of papers in the online magazine The Fold. Included was a review of paper from a studio in Ohio called Paper Circle; a new operation that is evidently looking to take on Origamido.

Over my morning coffee last Friday I ordered four sheets. The paper arrived yesterday and to test it out I did a second attempt of the Eastern Dragon. Three hours later the results are in. Working with this quality of paper is a totally different experience. A superior experience. Closed sink folds collapse crisply. Crimp folds snap in and out of place. Dreaded double rabbit ears do as they're told without even a whisper of complaint. More complicated folds that didn't quite make sense become obvious. And best of all, fine details pop into view. Which isn't to say that my abilities at all do this paper justice. Only that this paper inspires me to attempt more.

Three Eggs

It doesn't look like three eggs, but they laid the foundation for this coffee cake. After the last batch of ice cream (six egg yolks) and some egg salad (three eggs hard boiled; lots of capers; a couple of tablespoons of mayonnaise; a pinch of kosher salt and a spin of the pepper mill; spread over two slices of lightly toasted dark rye bread; finished with some shredded iceberg lettuce, sliced tomato, and oil and vinegar; a perfect summer lunch) three eggs sat neglected in their cardboard carton. Two eggs is obviously a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Four eggs is starting to look a lot like a pound cake. But three eggs? So I scoured my copy of Maida Heatter's Book of Great Desserts and found this recipe for Budapest Coffee Cake. Years ago I used to make all the time a smaller version of a sour cream coffee cake, following a recipe from one of the first cookbooks I ever owned, The Tassajara Bread Book. I'd forgotten how incredibly simple and satisfying these cakes are. My only modification is that I omitted the raisins. Next time though I think I will probably plump a generous cup in a lot of rum and fold them right into the batter. A soak overnight in a rum syrup also wouldn't hurt this cake I think, though honestly it is amazingly good as is.

Two Hours Later

Here is a first attempt at the Eastern Dragon from Genuine Origami. The details in the head and feet are a bit mushy, and also the final crimp folds. Plus I didn't get their placement right. The more advanced models really are finicky about the paper. The end of summer is in sight and I have a long long ways to go to really get these models crisp and clean.

Underwhelming

This is my second attempt at the reindeer from Lang and Weiss Origami Zoo. The book as a whole is underwhelming. So far the praying mantis is the only model I am eager to repeat. (The pegasus is also cool.) On this model the antlers are a mess, and it doesn't really look like a reindeer. It looks more like a unicorn that got hit by lightning. Or maybe a bull having an identity crisis. Lang is definitely the master of insects, but John Montroll's models of mammals I find are more whimsical and charming and balanced and economical to fold also for bit players like me. The moose I spotted outside my hotel in Florida last weekend stumbled out of the final pages of his book North American Animals in Origami.

Cicada, Take 3

Poolside

Military Trail and PGA Boulevard, Palm Beach Gardens, Florida

I have no idea how this little fellow wandered so far from his native north woods habitat, but I spotted him looking a bit dusty and lost in Palm Beach Gardens this afternoon.

The Last Scoop.

 Here is the last scoop of the ice cream leftover from the malted vanilla sandwiches.

Origami Insects

Cicada

A few weeks ago I bought a used copy of Robert Lang's Origami Insects. I had no idea the trouble I was getting into. On my sofa in front of the air conditioner I attempted a treehopper with a sheet of purple kami paper. An hour later I was pondering a lumpy mess, so I tossed my first attempt aside and jumped ahead to the praying mantis. But I didn't get very far. I was totally mystified by a simple seeming series of folds to the front at the tip. Then I tried the cicada. Again totally stymied about half way through by a simple seeming symmetrical crimp fold. I didn't like to give up though, and my fortunes finally turned with the grasshopper. In a single afternoon I got a pair of respectable life-size creatures (see On the Banks of the Choptank River), and also the courage to go back to the cicada and the praying mantis and try again. Only this time I sought out some help. For each model I used a sturdier paper and googled the numbered step that had seemed an insurmountable obstacle. In both cases I found a quick and easy bit of extra instruction. Here are the results. Not the most refined origami insects. But getting closer at least.

Praying Mantis