"Master Chef" is one of the very few network television shows we make a point of watching; that "Hell's Kitchen" and "Kitchen Nightmares" are two of the others should come as no surprise. However, I do have one perennial complaint, to wit, if "Master Chef" really is "America's best home cook," then why are contestants judged on their ability to create "restaurant quality dishes" with the high-quality ingredients using professional tools?
The real test of a good home cook is to turn out family-pleasing dishes seven nights a week, 52 weeks a year, and to do it on a budget in a suburban ranch kitchen. I'd like to see a "Master Chef" mystery box that included only items found in my fridge and in my pantry -- the week before I get paid. Now THAT would be a challenge! Oh, and Joe would have to swallow it.
Another would be using up leftovers in ways that disguise what they were originally.
I thought of this last week as I was putting together what I think was a pretty decent pork pot pie with cheddar biscuit topping for dinner last night. It was the left-over herbed pork roast (a rub of chopped fresh sage, rosemary and garlic with olive oil, salt and pepper) and potatoes from last Sunday's dinner (the miracle of refrigeration!). I sauteed some minced onion and garlic and with a gravy made from the drippings stretched out with some chicken stock, added the cubed pork, diced potatoes, and some frozen mixed vegetables. Ordinarily there would be left-over roasted carrots, but we've been out of carrots for a couple of weeks now; Mike kept forgetting them at the grocery store. I mixed up some buttermilk drop biscuits, cut back a bit on the shortening and added some cheddar cheese, but no herbs, figuring that the herbs from the pork would be plenty. I baked it in individual ramekins as a further diversion from the fact that it was made with left-overs. Baked until the topping was browned and we had dinner.
Later in the week. I made broiled frozen cod with pesto made from the basil growing in our herb garden served over orzo. Mike picked some very tiny baby eggplant, so I halved them, drizzled with some olive oil, topped with some finely minced garlic and parmesan cheese and roast along with the cod. I saved a bit of basil to sprinkle over them. I wanted to do a saute with peppers and tomatoes, but nothing was ripe yet.
The cod and pesto were a success, and the next night, I made homemade ravioli with basil/garlic/ricotta filling and the rest of the pesto. That used some ricotta that I had in the fridge, and leftover pesto -- two for one.
I'm planning ricotta-stuffed cannelloni for this week, with a red sauce, to use up a couple of tomatoes that are getting too ripe and the rest of the ricotta.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Jam tarts
After my first surgery, because Mike had been literally waiting on me for weeks at a time, I finally made him the blackberry jam tart he's been asking for every year when our blackberries are in season. The first ones I made were 4-inch blackberry pies, which he devoured, but then informed me that they weren't what he wanted. He wanted a tart shell, filled with jam, and topped with a lattice crust, the way his mother used to make.
After I was speaking to him again (never tell your wife that the blackberry pies she spent an entire day making, including picking the blackberries, were not the pinnacle of dessertness; I forgave him primarily because I had used packaged pastry crust), I agreed to try again. I picked another basket of blackberries and cooked them until they were soft, then passed them through my food mill, then continued to cook the juice with sugar to taste until it was thick.
While it cooled, I made the pastry crust, following the Cook's Illustrated "fool-proof" recipe, rather than using my old stand-by. Well, they never met this fool. It calls for chilled shortening, as well as cold butter. My shortening was not chilled. I scooped out the amount called for and put it in the freezer to chill, hoping that would do. Then, I got out the food processor, measured the dry ingredients into it (doubling the sugar), realized that I should have held out one cup of the flour, so scooped it back out with a soup spoon, and proceeded to process the butter and shortening in short bursts, per directions. I then added the additional flour, at which point it became clear that the shortening was not cold enough, as it blended into a paste, rather than clumping.
Then, following the recipe, I dumped it all into a mixing bowl, wondering all the while how this was saving me time. I don't have a crew of dishwashers. Couldn't I just have cut the shortening and butter into the flour in that bowl, the way I always have? I even have a pastry blender, which is a whole lot easier to clean than a food processor.
So, I sprinkled on the cold vodka and the cold water and pressed it in with a spatula, as per the directions. It seemed very soft to me. That was when I discovered that it had to be refrigerated for 45 minutes or up to 2 days. Errrrghhhhh!
When I pulled it out of the fridge, it was still really soft, but at this point, I did not have any more time to wait, so I sprinkled my pastry cloth liberally with flour and rolled it out. It rolled like a dream, but when I tried to roll it around the pin to transfer to the tart pan, it drooped and sagged and fell off the pin as I lifted it from the counter. After a few more tries, I gave up and just pressed it into the pan, doing my best to make it even. I then blind baked the crust for about 20 minutes, let it cool, and filled it with the now room temperature jam (which was absolutely fabulous -- such concentrated blackberry flavor, it was almost too good).
Here is where I lost it. I rolled out the remaining dough, cut it into strips, and tried to pick them up. Maybe 3 inches would lift before it would break. A few choice expletives later, I dumped a cup of flour on the pastry cloth and kneaded enough into that dough to make it manageable, rolled it out, cut the strips, laid them out, and baked the thing.
Mike, poor thing, got quite an earful when he got home from work, consisting mainly of "All I want to hear from you is how this is exactly what you wanted. I do NOT want to hear how your mother did it!"
He must have meant it when he said it, as he ate two pieces that night, another piece at breakfast, and had to call me to come and get him from work because . . . because you should not eat three pieces of blackberry jam tart within 12 hours. Despite the near-disaster with the crust, it still came out light and flaky and crispy.
I still don't know why the "fool-proof" pastry failed -- was it because the shortening was not cold enough? Because of the extra sugar? The kitchen too warm? I didn't leave it in the refrigerator long enough? There was enough left to make another crust, so I popped it into a plastic bag and into the meat drawer.
And got it out today to use for a fig jam tart, way more than 2 days later. The figs are ripening and he spent the morning vacuuming and doing the kitchen floors, to say nothing of having been saddled with cooking duties for the past three weeks.
Rolled it out, flipped it into the tart pan, weighted it down and blind baked it while I made the fig jam -- figs cooked down with sugar to taste and a couple of tablespoons of the limoncello I made last year, since we're out of lemons. I would have used port, but I used the last of that for the Christmas pudding. Let everything cool, pureed the figs with my immersion blender, spread the jam in the shell and stuck it in the fridge. The bits of crust that broke off are as flaky and crispy as they were 2 months ago. The fig jam isn't quite as rich as it would be with port -- but needs must.
Having tasted it, I'd call it more of a "fig puree" tart than a jam tart -- fig jam doesn't jell so much as thicken. Very tasty, but the texture is not quite right. Next time, I would not puree the figs, just chop them roughly and leave some pieces for texture. Still, Mike has had two pieces . . .
I really think the next time, I may follow the Cooks' Illustrated pie dough recipe as far as ingredients go, but I'll just cut the shortening (which is now in the fridge) and butter into the flour, rather than messing with the food processor. I know they use it on Master Chef, but . . . I'm not on Master Chef.
After I was speaking to him again (never tell your wife that the blackberry pies she spent an entire day making, including picking the blackberries, were not the pinnacle of dessertness; I forgave him primarily because I had used packaged pastry crust), I agreed to try again. I picked another basket of blackberries and cooked them until they were soft, then passed them through my food mill, then continued to cook the juice with sugar to taste until it was thick.
While it cooled, I made the pastry crust, following the Cook's Illustrated "fool-proof" recipe, rather than using my old stand-by. Well, they never met this fool. It calls for chilled shortening, as well as cold butter. My shortening was not chilled. I scooped out the amount called for and put it in the freezer to chill, hoping that would do. Then, I got out the food processor, measured the dry ingredients into it (doubling the sugar), realized that I should have held out one cup of the flour, so scooped it back out with a soup spoon, and proceeded to process the butter and shortening in short bursts, per directions. I then added the additional flour, at which point it became clear that the shortening was not cold enough, as it blended into a paste, rather than clumping.
Then, following the recipe, I dumped it all into a mixing bowl, wondering all the while how this was saving me time. I don't have a crew of dishwashers. Couldn't I just have cut the shortening and butter into the flour in that bowl, the way I always have? I even have a pastry blender, which is a whole lot easier to clean than a food processor.
So, I sprinkled on the cold vodka and the cold water and pressed it in with a spatula, as per the directions. It seemed very soft to me. That was when I discovered that it had to be refrigerated for 45 minutes or up to 2 days. Errrrghhhhh!
When I pulled it out of the fridge, it was still really soft, but at this point, I did not have any more time to wait, so I sprinkled my pastry cloth liberally with flour and rolled it out. It rolled like a dream, but when I tried to roll it around the pin to transfer to the tart pan, it drooped and sagged and fell off the pin as I lifted it from the counter. After a few more tries, I gave up and just pressed it into the pan, doing my best to make it even. I then blind baked the crust for about 20 minutes, let it cool, and filled it with the now room temperature jam (which was absolutely fabulous -- such concentrated blackberry flavor, it was almost too good).
Here is where I lost it. I rolled out the remaining dough, cut it into strips, and tried to pick them up. Maybe 3 inches would lift before it would break. A few choice expletives later, I dumped a cup of flour on the pastry cloth and kneaded enough into that dough to make it manageable, rolled it out, cut the strips, laid them out, and baked the thing.
Mike, poor thing, got quite an earful when he got home from work, consisting mainly of "All I want to hear from you is how this is exactly what you wanted. I do NOT want to hear how your mother did it!"
He must have meant it when he said it, as he ate two pieces that night, another piece at breakfast, and had to call me to come and get him from work because . . . because you should not eat three pieces of blackberry jam tart within 12 hours. Despite the near-disaster with the crust, it still came out light and flaky and crispy.
I still don't know why the "fool-proof" pastry failed -- was it because the shortening was not cold enough? Because of the extra sugar? The kitchen too warm? I didn't leave it in the refrigerator long enough? There was enough left to make another crust, so I popped it into a plastic bag and into the meat drawer.
And got it out today to use for a fig jam tart, way more than 2 days later. The figs are ripening and he spent the morning vacuuming and doing the kitchen floors, to say nothing of having been saddled with cooking duties for the past three weeks.
Rolled it out, flipped it into the tart pan, weighted it down and blind baked it while I made the fig jam -- figs cooked down with sugar to taste and a couple of tablespoons of the limoncello I made last year, since we're out of lemons. I would have used port, but I used the last of that for the Christmas pudding. Let everything cool, pureed the figs with my immersion blender, spread the jam in the shell and stuck it in the fridge. The bits of crust that broke off are as flaky and crispy as they were 2 months ago. The fig jam isn't quite as rich as it would be with port -- but needs must.
Having tasted it, I'd call it more of a "fig puree" tart than a jam tart -- fig jam doesn't jell so much as thicken. Very tasty, but the texture is not quite right. Next time, I would not puree the figs, just chop them roughly and leave some pieces for texture. Still, Mike has had two pieces . . .
I really think the next time, I may follow the Cooks' Illustrated pie dough recipe as far as ingredients go, but I'll just cut the shortening (which is now in the fridge) and butter into the flour, rather than messing with the food processor. I know they use it on Master Chef, but . . . I'm not on Master Chef.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Little Phantom and the Wraith
Baton Rouge is known for its feral and stray cats. Somewhere I think I read that there are more feral cats in Baton Rouge per capita than any other city in the U.S. Or maybe I just made that up, convinced that it is true. A black mother cat gave birth to half-a-dozen kittens in the pampas grass outside Kohl's a few years ago; the employees, including Mike, left food for them daily. We saw at least 3 kittens one evening when we sat outside at Joe's Crabshack. One little black-and-white fellow with emerald eyes was jumping from empty table to empty table, then rousted out a couple of his siblings to play in the sand around and under the playground equipment. We reported it to our server, who said that one of the employees was feeding the mother cat.
When we got home, I notified the Capital Area Animal Welfare Society (CAAWS) and became a member. As I'm typing this, I realize that we need to do more. But, then, we are, in our own small way.
Sometime the end of last year a little black kitten started showing up around our house, sitting in the front windows and yowling at our cats. Miller in particular would respond, batting at the window and warning him away. Finally, we decided that he must be a poor little stray, and put food out for him. He ran from us at first, but the food would disappear, and gradually he become more trusting, finally allowing us to touch him. Mike discovered that he was an unneutered male, and left me with the task of taking him to the vet. We named him Phantom because he would just show up from nowhere when it was feeding time.
As is usual, these situations always arise just when it's least convenient. I'm able to remember the time so clearly because it was about 2 weeks before we were scheduled to go on our first cruise. There wasn't time to organize things through the animal societies here -- they have various and sundry requirements and, of course, are completely backed up -- and we were planning to adopt him, anyway, so I caught him one morning (there is no greater feeling of guilt than picking up a trusting little kitten with the intent of taking him to the vet) and took him to Dr. Phil. The next day, the deed was done, he had his shots, and a few days later, Mike discovered that he belongs to the people across the road.
Any animal lover will understand how angry I am as I type this. They had brought the kitten back from some friends' farm for their young boy, and had kept him in the house, but now that they had a new baby, "naturally" they couldn't let him stay in the house. Oh, but they do still keep the dog in the house. Mike asked if they fed him, and the man said that they did put food out, but he could live on rats and stuff he could catch. I'm proud of my husband for not telling that . . . person . . . what he thought of him, although he did tell him that we had thought he was a stray and had him doctored. The idiot just responded, "Oh. Thanks."
At this point, 7 months later, he is as much or more our cat than theirs. He comes over at least once a day to be fed; I have introduced him to the delights of catnip, and sometimes that's all he wants. Most mornings, he comes galloping across the road, tail held high, when I go out for the paper, sometimes for breakfast, sometimes for catnip, always for a pet. If the door is open, he heads straight into the laundry room and begins marking the appliances; he will also huff and hiss at the bottom of the door, if either of our cats is on the other side. If I'm working in the front yard, I'm almost certain to have some company.
He discovered that he can jump from the hose caddy to the kitchen window, so it is not uncommon for him to appear as I'm fixing dinner, and demand his. He still occasionally sits in the front windows and teases the boys, although if it's just Buddy, they usually just sit and look at each other, and we know that he sleeps behind the Indian hawthorn in front of the house.
Mike has brought him in the house more than once, and he so clearly wants to stay, but Miller is having none of it. I sometimes wonder if we shouldn't just let them fight it out. Miller would let him know who was boss, and that would be the end of it, but I worry that Miller could really hurt him. He's so used to Buddy backing down that I don't know how he'd react to a cat who didn't. He's just so damned big, and Phantom is a little thing -- fiesty and scrappy, but little.
And now he has discovered the cat flap (it's really a door for large dogs which was here when we bought the house). About 10 days ago, Mike came back to the bedroom with Phantom. He had found him in the living room, marking the carpet around the cat scratcher. Obviously, he had jumped the fence and gone exploring. He took him out in the backyard and spent 15 minutes or so playing with him and Buddy. Then, Phantom decided it was time to go and jumped the fence.
A few days ago, as we were watching television, I saw Miller at the cat flap, but . . . the head wasn't quite big enough, and where were his white markings? You guessed it -- Phantom.
Buddy, who was on the couch, perked up his ears, and then ran to the flap. He and Phantom stared at each other through the plastic, then Phantom walked off, and Buddy followed through the flap. When Mike went out to check on them, they were just sprawled on the patio together. I wonder how often they have met up in the back yard; how many mornings when Buddy jumps down from the window and asks to go out, has Phantom been out there saying, "Meet you in the back yard?"
So, who is the Wraith? A few weeks ago, Mike discovered that another cat was also eating the food we put out for Phantom. He saw them walking up the driveway together, and on another occasion, saw Phantom waiting for the other cat to cross the street. He named it "Wraith" both because it is a grey tabby and because it is nearly skeletal. We're fairly certain that it is female, so I will call it "she." She eats astounding amounts of food, but doesn't seem to gain any weight, so Mike is going to stop at PetCo for some dewormer. She's far too skittish and emotionally fragile to think about capturing and taking to the vet right now.
At first, she would run at any sound from the house, but gradually, she has come to allow Mike to stroke her and now purrs and rubs his legs. She spends at least part of her day under the RAV4 (Mike has put a pet bed underneath), which, of course, isn't being driven right now. She came out when I opened the door to put out some recycling yesterday, then stopped when she say me, and . . . didn't actually hiss, but stared with her mouth open, then retreated under the car. I told Mike that she was waiting to be fed, and, of course, she came running to him.
I think Gollum might have been a more appropriate name.
When we got home, I notified the Capital Area Animal Welfare Society (CAAWS) and became a member. As I'm typing this, I realize that we need to do more. But, then, we are, in our own small way.
Sometime the end of last year a little black kitten started showing up around our house, sitting in the front windows and yowling at our cats. Miller in particular would respond, batting at the window and warning him away. Finally, we decided that he must be a poor little stray, and put food out for him. He ran from us at first, but the food would disappear, and gradually he become more trusting, finally allowing us to touch him. Mike discovered that he was an unneutered male, and left me with the task of taking him to the vet. We named him Phantom because he would just show up from nowhere when it was feeding time.
As is usual, these situations always arise just when it's least convenient. I'm able to remember the time so clearly because it was about 2 weeks before we were scheduled to go on our first cruise. There wasn't time to organize things through the animal societies here -- they have various and sundry requirements and, of course, are completely backed up -- and we were planning to adopt him, anyway, so I caught him one morning (there is no greater feeling of guilt than picking up a trusting little kitten with the intent of taking him to the vet) and took him to Dr. Phil. The next day, the deed was done, he had his shots, and a few days later, Mike discovered that he belongs to the people across the road.
Any animal lover will understand how angry I am as I type this. They had brought the kitten back from some friends' farm for their young boy, and had kept him in the house, but now that they had a new baby, "naturally" they couldn't let him stay in the house. Oh, but they do still keep the dog in the house. Mike asked if they fed him, and the man said that they did put food out, but he could live on rats and stuff he could catch. I'm proud of my husband for not telling that . . . person . . . what he thought of him, although he did tell him that we had thought he was a stray and had him doctored. The idiot just responded, "Oh. Thanks."
At this point, 7 months later, he is as much or more our cat than theirs. He comes over at least once a day to be fed; I have introduced him to the delights of catnip, and sometimes that's all he wants. Most mornings, he comes galloping across the road, tail held high, when I go out for the paper, sometimes for breakfast, sometimes for catnip, always for a pet. If the door is open, he heads straight into the laundry room and begins marking the appliances; he will also huff and hiss at the bottom of the door, if either of our cats is on the other side. If I'm working in the front yard, I'm almost certain to have some company.
He discovered that he can jump from the hose caddy to the kitchen window, so it is not uncommon for him to appear as I'm fixing dinner, and demand his. He still occasionally sits in the front windows and teases the boys, although if it's just Buddy, they usually just sit and look at each other, and we know that he sleeps behind the Indian hawthorn in front of the house.
Mike has brought him in the house more than once, and he so clearly wants to stay, but Miller is having none of it. I sometimes wonder if we shouldn't just let them fight it out. Miller would let him know who was boss, and that would be the end of it, but I worry that Miller could really hurt him. He's so used to Buddy backing down that I don't know how he'd react to a cat who didn't. He's just so damned big, and Phantom is a little thing -- fiesty and scrappy, but little.
And now he has discovered the cat flap (it's really a door for large dogs which was here when we bought the house). About 10 days ago, Mike came back to the bedroom with Phantom. He had found him in the living room, marking the carpet around the cat scratcher. Obviously, he had jumped the fence and gone exploring. He took him out in the backyard and spent 15 minutes or so playing with him and Buddy. Then, Phantom decided it was time to go and jumped the fence.
A few days ago, as we were watching television, I saw Miller at the cat flap, but . . . the head wasn't quite big enough, and where were his white markings? You guessed it -- Phantom.
Buddy, who was on the couch, perked up his ears, and then ran to the flap. He and Phantom stared at each other through the plastic, then Phantom walked off, and Buddy followed through the flap. When Mike went out to check on them, they were just sprawled on the patio together. I wonder how often they have met up in the back yard; how many mornings when Buddy jumps down from the window and asks to go out, has Phantom been out there saying, "Meet you in the back yard?"
So, who is the Wraith? A few weeks ago, Mike discovered that another cat was also eating the food we put out for Phantom. He saw them walking up the driveway together, and on another occasion, saw Phantom waiting for the other cat to cross the street. He named it "Wraith" both because it is a grey tabby and because it is nearly skeletal. We're fairly certain that it is female, so I will call it "she." She eats astounding amounts of food, but doesn't seem to gain any weight, so Mike is going to stop at PetCo for some dewormer. She's far too skittish and emotionally fragile to think about capturing and taking to the vet right now.
At first, she would run at any sound from the house, but gradually, she has come to allow Mike to stroke her and now purrs and rubs his legs. She spends at least part of her day under the RAV4 (Mike has put a pet bed underneath), which, of course, isn't being driven right now. She came out when I opened the door to put out some recycling yesterday, then stopped when she say me, and . . . didn't actually hiss, but stared with her mouth open, then retreated under the car. I told Mike that she was waiting to be fed, and, of course, she came running to him.
I think Gollum might have been a more appropriate name.
PLMS -- periodic limb movement of sleep.
According to the NIH, what I have is not RLS, but PLMS :
"PLMS is characterized by involuntary
leg twitching or jerking movements during sleep that typically occur
every 15 to 40 seconds,
sometimes throughout the night. The
symptoms cause repeated awakening and severely disrupted sleep. Although
many individuals
with RLS also develop PLMS, most
people with PLMS do not experience RLS. People who have PLMS and do not
have RLS or another
cause for the PLMS may be diagnosed
with periodic limb movement disorder (PLMD). PLMD may be a variant of
RLS and thus respond
to similar treatments." http://www.ninds.nih.gov/disorders/restless_legs/detail_restless_legs.htm
Although, in my case, it causes repeated awakening and severely disrupted sleep in Mike, not me, and a king-size bed will take care of that.
Apparently the only way to really diagnose it is to go through a sleep study, which might be kind of fun and interesting, but since it's not life-threatening, I can't see any reason to bother. Mike might not agree.
Although, in my case, it causes repeated awakening and severely disrupted sleep in Mike, not me, and a king-size bed will take care of that.
Apparently the only way to really diagnose it is to go through a sleep study, which might be kind of fun and interesting, but since it's not life-threatening, I can't see any reason to bother. Mike might not agree.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Bunionectomy, Round 2, Week 3
When all of those people writing about bunionectomies online say that every surgery is different, what they don't make clear is that they are including surgeries on the same person. Two weeks ago, my right foot was operated on. It was the same type of surgery at the same clinic by the same doctor. Same anesthesiologist, most of the same nurses. Completely different experience -- and I mean that in a good way.
This time, I was practically pain-free. Really truly. First I noticed that my ankle didn't ache. Then, that there was no tightening sensation across the ball of my foot and around my big toe. Initially, I thought that it was because the local hadn't worn off, but not once in two weeks did I feel anything more than twinges in the joint and some brief tightness between my first two toes. Doctor Le was as amazed as I when I went in yesterday for the cast and stitches to be removed. He kept showing me on the X-rays that there was no swelling.
Mike would like to take credit for it. He insisted that I remain in bed all day, and only "allowed" me out in the evenings. I have the kneewalker, so I wasn't using crutches except to get in and out of the bathroom. I did take the pain medications as directed, but mainly because they are part of the healing process, not because I felt I needed them. I used an ice pack at night for maybe a week, and then only for a few hours in the evening, and recently not at all.
So, now, two weeks in the boot, and then back to shoes. And with no swelling, I can be wearing cute shoes in two weeks!! So looking forward to trying on shoes I haven't been able to wear for 6 or more years; from what I see in the ads and shoe stores, they've gone out of style and come back in again. Any that don't fit now are going to St. Vincent's, and I may go shoe shopping.
The only mildly interesting thing about the whole experience is that Dr. Le told Mike that I kept moving (twitching) my leg. I asked him about it yesterday, and he said that about 20% of the surgery time was waiting for me to stop moving my leg -- and that it was the same with the left leg. In fact, the anesthesiologist asked, "Is this the lady who moves her leg?" when they started the surgery. So, I guess Mike isn't lying when he says that I kick him all night long. He'll demonstrate for you next time you see him.
This time, I was practically pain-free. Really truly. First I noticed that my ankle didn't ache. Then, that there was no tightening sensation across the ball of my foot and around my big toe. Initially, I thought that it was because the local hadn't worn off, but not once in two weeks did I feel anything more than twinges in the joint and some brief tightness between my first two toes. Doctor Le was as amazed as I when I went in yesterday for the cast and stitches to be removed. He kept showing me on the X-rays that there was no swelling.
Mike would like to take credit for it. He insisted that I remain in bed all day, and only "allowed" me out in the evenings. I have the kneewalker, so I wasn't using crutches except to get in and out of the bathroom. I did take the pain medications as directed, but mainly because they are part of the healing process, not because I felt I needed them. I used an ice pack at night for maybe a week, and then only for a few hours in the evening, and recently not at all.
So, now, two weeks in the boot, and then back to shoes. And with no swelling, I can be wearing cute shoes in two weeks!! So looking forward to trying on shoes I haven't been able to wear for 6 or more years; from what I see in the ads and shoe stores, they've gone out of style and come back in again. Any that don't fit now are going to St. Vincent's, and I may go shoe shopping.
The only mildly interesting thing about the whole experience is that Dr. Le told Mike that I kept moving (twitching) my leg. I asked him about it yesterday, and he said that about 20% of the surgery time was waiting for me to stop moving my leg -- and that it was the same with the left leg. In fact, the anesthesiologist asked, "Is this the lady who moves her leg?" when they started the surgery. So, I guess Mike isn't lying when he says that I kick him all night long. He'll demonstrate for you next time you see him.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
More questions for Oregon about "Pay it Forward"
Yes, I'm on a rant. This is a subject near and dear to my heart, and not only because it's what they pay me to do.
Some of the comments on Facebook and other sites raise another ideological and systemic issue. More than one has asked why anyone planning to be a doctor or lawyer or hedge fund manager would to school in Oregon and be on the hook for 3% of their astronomical income for 24 years. They'd be better off financially to take out traditional student loans.And that's before figuring the cost of graduate school. Unless they also go to school in Oregon, and unless this program also covers grad school, they'll be paying the school from an income that is due in large part to a degree earned elsewhere -- a degree for which they most likely took out traditional student loans.
What would this mean for the financial viability of the program, if the high earners are not part of it? Would it be sustainable with only the contributions from teachers and librarians and nurses, with a few engineers and computer scientists thrown in?
And more importantly, if schools' viability is a function of the post-graduation income of their students, would they have an even greater incentive to cut back and even close programs in arts, humanities, and social sciences? State legislatures are already pressuring schools to increase the number of STEM graduates, and schools are slowly starving programs in every other area, so this is not some paranoid fantasy.
How will this affect admissions? Will schools become more rigid, only accepting students with demonstrated ability to succeed in those fields? Or will they begin accepting as many students as possible, to increase the number "paying it forward?" Will states restrict arts, humanities and social science programs to only one or two institutions? Will schools be willing to accept part-time students, knowing that they won't begin to be reimbursed for 8 years or more? Will they accept non-traditional students?
How will this affect retention and graduation? Will schools have a greater incentive to push students to graduate as soon as possible? Will schools have an incentive to retain marginal students through graduation, or will the incentive be to weed out those students as soon as possible? What effect will this have on grade inflation?
Where is the student's incentive to graduate on time -- if at all? The amount they will pay back won't change if they remain in school another semester or two or three. No one should feel pressured to graduate before their education has been completed; by the same token, no one should feel free to just drift for years.
How will states distribute the money? Would the money go back to the school from which the student graduated or would it go into a general fund benefiting all higher education in the state?
Some of the comments on Facebook and other sites raise another ideological and systemic issue. More than one has asked why anyone planning to be a doctor or lawyer or hedge fund manager would to school in Oregon and be on the hook for 3% of their astronomical income for 24 years. They'd be better off financially to take out traditional student loans.And that's before figuring the cost of graduate school. Unless they also go to school in Oregon, and unless this program also covers grad school, they'll be paying the school from an income that is due in large part to a degree earned elsewhere -- a degree for which they most likely took out traditional student loans.
What would this mean for the financial viability of the program, if the high earners are not part of it? Would it be sustainable with only the contributions from teachers and librarians and nurses, with a few engineers and computer scientists thrown in?
And more importantly, if schools' viability is a function of the post-graduation income of their students, would they have an even greater incentive to cut back and even close programs in arts, humanities, and social sciences? State legislatures are already pressuring schools to increase the number of STEM graduates, and schools are slowly starving programs in every other area, so this is not some paranoid fantasy.
How will this affect admissions? Will schools become more rigid, only accepting students with demonstrated ability to succeed in those fields? Or will they begin accepting as many students as possible, to increase the number "paying it forward?" Will states restrict arts, humanities and social science programs to only one or two institutions? Will schools be willing to accept part-time students, knowing that they won't begin to be reimbursed for 8 years or more? Will they accept non-traditional students?
How will this affect retention and graduation? Will schools have a greater incentive to push students to graduate as soon as possible? Will schools have an incentive to retain marginal students through graduation, or will the incentive be to weed out those students as soon as possible? What effect will this have on grade inflation?
Where is the student's incentive to graduate on time -- if at all? The amount they will pay back won't change if they remain in school another semester or two or three. No one should feel pressured to graduate before their education has been completed; by the same token, no one should feel free to just drift for years.
How will states distribute the money? Would the money go back to the school from which the student graduated or would it go into a general fund benefiting all higher education in the state?
Friday, July 5, 2013
If you're paying 3% of your salary for 24 years, it isn't free.
Speaking of the Oregon "tuition free" pilot program that would have graduates paying 3% of their salary to the state for 24 years after graduation. So many people are cheering the headlines (and a few are just as loudly condemning them), but their comments make it quite clear that they haven't bothered to actually read the articles that the headlines are attached to.
Considering that I'm currently paying more than 6% of my income in student loan payments, it may seem surprising that I am not a proponent of this plan. Well, there are many reasons for that, not the least of which that this is just another method of removing the "public" from public higher education. It continues to shift the burden from all taxpayers to the middle- and working-classes, while benefitting corporations and the wealthy.
Oregon, in common with most other states, has been slashing the amount of public funding going to higher education, in order to protect tax breaks, deductions, exemptions, and rebates for corporations and the wealthy. This program does nothing to reverse that trend, but it certainly has diverted attention away from it. Do not misunderstand -- I am in no way arguing that the current system should be retained. I am, however, arguing that this does nothing to fix the underlying, systemic problem, which is the erosion of the social contract.
My other objections are more pragmatic than ideological. Let's start with the beginning of the process, the high school student from a low- to middle-income family who is applying for college. What does the student put on the FAFSA? Federal PELL grants are based, in part, on tuition and fees, but Oregon is no longer charging tuition. How will this affect the amount of the grant?
And if the student does get a PELL grant, how will that figure into what the student owes after graduation? It's not impossible that the PELL grant will go for fees, books, and living expenses, but what if the student works part-time in order to cover living expenses or has some other source of income? How can the excess grant money be used to pay off the student's debt to the state? And it is a debt to the state; make no mistake about that.
And what about those fees? Will fees still be charged? For in-state students, fees are anywhere from 50-100% or more of the amount of tuition. And states have been increasing fees on residents as a way around legal restrictions on tuition increases. The press releases don't address that issue.
Are there any performance requirements? Or can students just skate through with Cs and Ds? And there are some who would look at it as a four-year vacation, either not thinking about the future, or not worrying about paying back a mere 3%. What if a student is expelled for poor performance? When does repayment begin?
Now, what happens if our student drops out before graduation? Surely that student cannot be required to pay 3% for 24 years without a degree; at the same time, that student should pay something. How will that be calculated? And when will repayment begin?
But, our student isn't the kind to flunk out or drop out. Our student graduates. And goes on to graduate school. This leads to two questions : 1. Does our student have to begin repayment now or after grad school? and 2. Does this program cover grad school? Because that's where I racked up my loans, in grad school. As an undergrad I went to a state school, back in the day when public higher education was fully funded. My PELL grant covered tuition, fees, books and some living expenses. My work study job covered the rest, because, as a traditional young adult student, I shared a house with roommates and took the bus to campus.
Finally, our student graduates with that master's degree and for whatever reason is forced to take a low-paying position. Is there a minimum income threshhold for repayment? Or does our student have to begin paying 3% of that minimum wage salary, the one that doesn't quite bring in enough to cover rent, utilities, and other basic living expenses?
Which brings up the question of "What is income?" Is it wages and salary only, or would it include, say, disability payments? Retirement benefits? Capital gains? What about someone winning the lottery? Or coming into an inheritance? Is it the Federally Adjusted Gross Income, or actual income?
What if our student experiences some kind of financial setback, has huge medical expenses or losses due to a natural disaster or must care for an aging parent? Is there some mechanism for deferring payment? The student still has an income, but it is being stretched to the limits. It's not at all inconceivable that something of this kind would occur within the 24 years between 25 and 50.
What if our student moves out of Oregon? How will the state collect on the debt? Not that our student would ever dream of not making those payments every month.
Let's suppose that our student was what is termed a "non-traditional student," that is, an older adult who is either going to college for the first time, returning to school to finish a degree that was deferred, or earning a graduate degree (assuming that this program applies to graduate degrees). These may be women who put their own education on hold until their children were grown, displaced workers who need to learn new skills, workers who are trying to qualify for promotions, or older people who want to fulfill a personal goal.
What happens if this student retires less than 24 years after graduation? Full retirement age is 66.5; that would include anyone 42.5 or older.
These students frequently have dependents, which gets back to the question of how income will be figured. They aren't 20-somethings just starting out, maybe with one baby, and relatively young, healthy parents. They are middle-aged adults, often with teenagers at home, and sometimes caring for aging parents. Will all of that be taken into account when "income" is figured?
And a couple more things :
What if 3% for 24 years is not enough? If they raise the percentage and/or time period, would that include everyone? And is there any kind of cap on either one? At what point would graduates once again be drowning in debt?
And participants will lose all or most of the education tax credits, at least as they are currently written. http://www.irs.gov/uac/Five-Ways-to-Offset-Education-Costs.
According to the press releases, this was based on the Australian FEE-HELP system. So, how do they really compare?
1. Under FEE-HELP, tuition is charged, but payment is deferred. Therefore, a student owes a fixed amount upon graduation, which can be paid back more or less quickly, as the student is able.
2. The student can defer 25, 50, 75, or 100% of the tuition each semester, thus minimizing the amount that must be repaid.
3. Students must maintain a minimum gpa and are restricted on the number of credits they can take in a semester.
4. It is available to undergraduates and graduates, although there is a lifetime limit on the amount any one person can owe.
5. It is a national program; the Australian government pays the money directly to the university, then collects the repayments through the Tax Office.
6. There are financial incentives for making additional payments (5% of payments over $550).
7. There is a minimum income threshold -- payments don't kick in until you are making more than poverty-level wages.
Now, I am aware that one of the objections that the more rightward leaning have to this program is that, in their words, someone who "works harder and better and so is more successful" will ultimately pay back more in actual dollars than a loser who goes into education or librarianship, but that is one of the few things that I like about this program. Those who benefit the most financially would pay back the most, while those who provide a service to society would benefit from a half-way decent standard of living. I would find that far preferable to the situation we have today, where the amoral, unethical bloodsuckers who are draining the public dry are rewarded with high salaries and low taxes and those who struggle to improve our country and its people are drowning in debt.
Considering that I'm currently paying more than 6% of my income in student loan payments, it may seem surprising that I am not a proponent of this plan. Well, there are many reasons for that, not the least of which that this is just another method of removing the "public" from public higher education. It continues to shift the burden from all taxpayers to the middle- and working-classes, while benefitting corporations and the wealthy.
Oregon, in common with most other states, has been slashing the amount of public funding going to higher education, in order to protect tax breaks, deductions, exemptions, and rebates for corporations and the wealthy. This program does nothing to reverse that trend, but it certainly has diverted attention away from it. Do not misunderstand -- I am in no way arguing that the current system should be retained. I am, however, arguing that this does nothing to fix the underlying, systemic problem, which is the erosion of the social contract.
My other objections are more pragmatic than ideological. Let's start with the beginning of the process, the high school student from a low- to middle-income family who is applying for college. What does the student put on the FAFSA? Federal PELL grants are based, in part, on tuition and fees, but Oregon is no longer charging tuition. How will this affect the amount of the grant?
And if the student does get a PELL grant, how will that figure into what the student owes after graduation? It's not impossible that the PELL grant will go for fees, books, and living expenses, but what if the student works part-time in order to cover living expenses or has some other source of income? How can the excess grant money be used to pay off the student's debt to the state? And it is a debt to the state; make no mistake about that.
And what about those fees? Will fees still be charged? For in-state students, fees are anywhere from 50-100% or more of the amount of tuition. And states have been increasing fees on residents as a way around legal restrictions on tuition increases. The press releases don't address that issue.
Are there any performance requirements? Or can students just skate through with Cs and Ds? And there are some who would look at it as a four-year vacation, either not thinking about the future, or not worrying about paying back a mere 3%. What if a student is expelled for poor performance? When does repayment begin?
Now, what happens if our student drops out before graduation? Surely that student cannot be required to pay 3% for 24 years without a degree; at the same time, that student should pay something. How will that be calculated? And when will repayment begin?
But, our student isn't the kind to flunk out or drop out. Our student graduates. And goes on to graduate school. This leads to two questions : 1. Does our student have to begin repayment now or after grad school? and 2. Does this program cover grad school? Because that's where I racked up my loans, in grad school. As an undergrad I went to a state school, back in the day when public higher education was fully funded. My PELL grant covered tuition, fees, books and some living expenses. My work study job covered the rest, because, as a traditional young adult student, I shared a house with roommates and took the bus to campus.
Finally, our student graduates with that master's degree and for whatever reason is forced to take a low-paying position. Is there a minimum income threshhold for repayment? Or does our student have to begin paying 3% of that minimum wage salary, the one that doesn't quite bring in enough to cover rent, utilities, and other basic living expenses?
Which brings up the question of "What is income?" Is it wages and salary only, or would it include, say, disability payments? Retirement benefits? Capital gains? What about someone winning the lottery? Or coming into an inheritance? Is it the Federally Adjusted Gross Income, or actual income?
What if our student experiences some kind of financial setback, has huge medical expenses or losses due to a natural disaster or must care for an aging parent? Is there some mechanism for deferring payment? The student still has an income, but it is being stretched to the limits. It's not at all inconceivable that something of this kind would occur within the 24 years between 25 and 50.
What if our student moves out of Oregon? How will the state collect on the debt? Not that our student would ever dream of not making those payments every month.
Let's suppose that our student was what is termed a "non-traditional student," that is, an older adult who is either going to college for the first time, returning to school to finish a degree that was deferred, or earning a graduate degree (assuming that this program applies to graduate degrees). These may be women who put their own education on hold until their children were grown, displaced workers who need to learn new skills, workers who are trying to qualify for promotions, or older people who want to fulfill a personal goal.
What happens if this student retires less than 24 years after graduation? Full retirement age is 66.5; that would include anyone 42.5 or older.
These students frequently have dependents, which gets back to the question of how income will be figured. They aren't 20-somethings just starting out, maybe with one baby, and relatively young, healthy parents. They are middle-aged adults, often with teenagers at home, and sometimes caring for aging parents. Will all of that be taken into account when "income" is figured?
And a couple more things :
What if 3% for 24 years is not enough? If they raise the percentage and/or time period, would that include everyone? And is there any kind of cap on either one? At what point would graduates once again be drowning in debt?
And participants will lose all or most of the education tax credits, at least as they are currently written. http://www.irs.gov/uac/Five-Ways-to-Offset-Education-Costs.
According to the press releases, this was based on the Australian FEE-HELP system. So, how do they really compare?
1. Under FEE-HELP, tuition is charged, but payment is deferred. Therefore, a student owes a fixed amount upon graduation, which can be paid back more or less quickly, as the student is able.
2. The student can defer 25, 50, 75, or 100% of the tuition each semester, thus minimizing the amount that must be repaid.
3. Students must maintain a minimum gpa and are restricted on the number of credits they can take in a semester.
4. It is available to undergraduates and graduates, although there is a lifetime limit on the amount any one person can owe.
5. It is a national program; the Australian government pays the money directly to the university, then collects the repayments through the Tax Office.
6. There are financial incentives for making additional payments (5% of payments over $550).
7. There is a minimum income threshold -- payments don't kick in until you are making more than poverty-level wages.
Now, I am aware that one of the objections that the more rightward leaning have to this program is that, in their words, someone who "works harder and better and so is more successful" will ultimately pay back more in actual dollars than a loser who goes into education or librarianship, but that is one of the few things that I like about this program. Those who benefit the most financially would pay back the most, while those who provide a service to society would benefit from a half-way decent standard of living. I would find that far preferable to the situation we have today, where the amoral, unethical bloodsuckers who are draining the public dry are rewarded with high salaries and low taxes and those who struggle to improve our country and its people are drowning in debt.
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