It's interesting how a conk in the head and subsequent mild concussion can change one's world view. (In case you're wondering, a couple of years ago I got conked in the head with a rubber tire, resulting in a mild concussion. Looking back, I believe that was the major turning point of my life as I know it.)

I hate computers. I hate computers with an unnatural passion. Well, not all computers. Just the ones that don't do what I tell them to do, regardless of how specifically I specify the specifications. These for the most part fall under the category of Windows and Windows-derivative systems. I hate these so much that I've pretty much decided to take a drastically different direction for my life.

In a previous post, I had mentioned that I was toying with the idea of leaving the computer industry altogether for a change of scenery. A week later, I got a nice kick in the pants, and a lot of encouragements and exhortations, and have decided to go for it. The plan is to quit my high-paying, high-stress, desk job to go to culinary school to become a pastry chef. Yes, you read that right. Pastry chef. "So, what do you do for a living?" "Oh, I'm a pastry chef."

While pondering this decision, I came to the conclusion that I'd regret it more if I were 50, sitting in a cubicle, and wishing I'd taken this opportunity, than if I went to school, paid many dollars, and found out it wasn't meant to be.

So maybe one day you'll see me at a pastry chef competition, or you'll run into my work at a wedding reception. Maybe I'll be on Iron Chef one day. Or maybe I'll end up back in a cubicle churning out code like the good little Code Monkey I am. Either way, the road will be much more interesting, and marked with fun and tasty dessert-y creations.

One day it'll be, "You know, your Grandpa used to be a pastry chef." How many Grandpas used to be pastry chefs?


¶ 4:25 PM 2 comments

A couple of years ago, as an April Fool's Day joke, ThinkGeek posted on its site the George Foreman iGrill.

Well, Slashdot is now reporting that a British university student has taken the prop and made it into a functioning computer.

Hats off to James. :-)

¶ 1:38 PM 0 comments

In a previous post, I said I was going to build a gingerbread structure for a New Year's Eve party last week. Well, I finished it, along with two other pieces, and I'd say it was a success. To my perfectionist eye it was far from perfect, but I must say it looked much better from farther away.

And without further ado, I give you Midnight Celebration.


Design

The initial conception of the idea revolved around the theme of Time, which usually pervades New Year celebrations, at least in the Western cultures. In the American tradition around this time of year is the gingerbread house. So I thought it fitting to combine the two traditions.

What better represents Time than a Clock? And how do you combine the gingerbread house concept with a clock? A clock tower, of course. The architectural design is based loosely on Big Ben.




Construction

A clock tower is tall and lean. Gingerbread, as it turns out, is much stronger as small slabs than as large sheets. So then how does one engineer a gingerbread clock tower? My initial thought was that a hollow column would not be able to support the clock as I had envisioned it (more on this later). I would later prove that this conjecture is right. In my foresight, I had planned to make a solid core around which the main column would be built, and upon which most of the weight of the clock would rest. Enter Styrofoam.

Styrofoam, known more affectionately as polystyrene, has a world of possible uses. The floral industry, for example, uses it to create large, voluminous flower arrangements. I would employ florists' Styrofoam to create a large, voluminous gingerbread clock tower. I formed the tower core from two blocks of 2x4x12" floral Styro, hot-glued together to form a single 4x4x12" block. This block was then hot-glued on end to a 9x9" corrugated cardboard cake board. The tower was coming together very quickly.

Part of the spectacle was to have the clock faces be backlit, much like a real clock tower would. A candle is out of the question, so it came to electric lighting. After spending about 30 minutes at an electronics parts store, I decided I would build a 9-volt electrical system, lighting a single light bulb. The circuit would be controllable externally with a switch. All electrics would be contained entirely within the structure. Once the Styro core was ready, I could begin carving the battery compartment, switch and wiring housings, and mount the light bulb. The end result:



Once the core was finished, I could begin making the gingerbread pieces. I measured and cut several pattern pieces. This would simplify the fabrication process.



I prepared the dough, rolled and cut the dough to the proper shape, then transferred the raw dough to baking sheets lined with parchment paper. Many hours later, all pieces were baked and trimmed, and cooled overnight. End Day 1.

On Day 2, I made 50 bright canary yellow fondant stars, mixed up a batch of royal icing, colored it the same bright canary yellow, and began assembling. The first step was to cover the tower core with icing.

In the interest of maintaining the ediblity of the structure, I wrapped the Styro with plastic food wrap. It turns out that hot glue doesn't stick to parchment paper.

Working on each side, one at a time, I attached the four gingerbread slabs to the foam core with icing. Even overnight, the larger slabs were still a little soft, so I was glad that I had designed it with the foam core.



The clock face is a square of parchment paper, "glued" on with icing. My original idea was to use hard candy syrup to make sugar glass, which would be transparent or at least translucent. I tried a few methods, but wasn't happy with any of the results. I also tried fondant, but it was too soft. The hands and tick marks are black icing.

Apply stars and icing, and voila! A gingerbread clock tower. Also accompanying the clock tower were a matching chocolate cake and a strawberry shortcake for people who don't like chocolate (yes, they exist).


Presentation

The following are various views of the final presentation, including all four sides of the tower, the top of the tower, and the backlight of the clock face.



After Midnight, after the champagne, after the sparklers, I grabbed a knife and started serving the gingerbread clock tower. People ate the gingerbread and took some home. It was all worth it.




Epilogue

I learned a lot from this experience. I learned how to work with gingerbread and fondant, how to solder electronic parts, and how to engineer a gingerbread structure. A few improvements and tricks have been noted in the back of my mind for the next go-round. All-in-all, I'd say it was a complete success.

Here's the cost run-down:

Estimated cost of ingredients/materials	$50.00
Estimated total time spent	3 person-days / 24 hours
Hypothetical labor rate	$15.00 per hour
Hypothetical revenue	$360.00
Hypothetical profit	$310.00

Afterword

So what's next? I don't know. I do know, however, that I'm considering making a career of this. Eighteen months of culinary school, a degree as a pastry chef, and a job would really wrap all this up very nicely. Executive pastry chefs make a pretty good living (about what I'm making now as a disgruntled grunt). We'll see what happens over the next year. In the meantime, I look forward to being able to do this again for some random party.

¶ 10:21 AM 0 comments