Jack Alan Hamilton
Monday, November 26, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Salted Caramel Brownies
Just in case you were wondering, these are the BEST brownies EVER!
Salted Caramel Brownies
barely adapted from Baked: Explorations
For the Salted Caramel Sauce:
To make the brownies, preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9x13 inch baking dish.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, and cocoa powder.
Combine the butter and chocolate in a large microwave safe bowl and cook at 30 second intervals, stirring well in between, until the chocolate and butter have melted. Add both sugars and whisk until combined. Allow the mixture to cool to room temperature.
Add three of the eggs and whisk until just combined. Whisk in the remaining two eggs, vanilla, and Kahlua, and whisk just until combined.
Sprinkle the flour mixture over the brownies and use a spatula to fold it into the wet ingredients, until there are just small traces of the flour visible
To assemble the brownies, pour half the batter into the prepared baking dish. Drizzle 3/4 cup of the caramel over the brownie batter, being careful not to let the sauce come into contact with the edge of dish. Use and offset spatula to gently spread the caramel evenly over the brownie layer, then drop the remaining brownie batter over the caramel. Again, use the offset spatula to gently spread it in an even layer.
Bake the brownies for 30 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through baking. The brownies are done when a toothpick inserted into the center comes out with just a few crumbs attached.
Remove the brownies from the oven and sprinkle with the salt and sugar Cool completely before cutting and serving.
barely adapted from Baked: Explorations
For the Salted Caramel Sauce:
- 1 cup sugar
- 2 Tbs light corn syrup
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- 1 tsp fleur de sel
- 1/4 cup sour cream or Greek yogurt
- 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 tsp kosher salt
- 2 Tbs Dutch-process unsweetened cocoa powder
- 11 oz good quality bittersweet or semisweet chocolate (preferably 60 to 72%), coarsely chopped
- 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces
- 1 1/2 cups sugar
- 1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
- 5 large eggs, at room temperature
- 2 tsp vanilla extract
- splash of Kahlua (optional)
- 1 tsp fleur de sel
- 1 tsp coarse sugar
To make the brownies, preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9x13 inch baking dish.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, and cocoa powder.
Combine the butter and chocolate in a large microwave safe bowl and cook at 30 second intervals, stirring well in between, until the chocolate and butter have melted. Add both sugars and whisk until combined. Allow the mixture to cool to room temperature.
Add three of the eggs and whisk until just combined. Whisk in the remaining two eggs, vanilla, and Kahlua, and whisk just until combined.
Sprinkle the flour mixture over the brownies and use a spatula to fold it into the wet ingredients, until there are just small traces of the flour visible
To assemble the brownies, pour half the batter into the prepared baking dish. Drizzle 3/4 cup of the caramel over the brownie batter, being careful not to let the sauce come into contact with the edge of dish. Use and offset spatula to gently spread the caramel evenly over the brownie layer, then drop the remaining brownie batter over the caramel. Again, use the offset spatula to gently spread it in an even layer.
Bake the brownies for 30 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through baking. The brownies are done when a toothpick inserted into the center comes out with just a few crumbs attached.
Remove the brownies from the oven and sprinkle with the salt and sugar Cool completely before cutting and serving.
Enjoy!
Meredith Cochran
Monday, September 10, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice
Lena Miller
May this little bundle of joy bring you much happiness in the years to come. What a wonderful gift of hope and joy, a beautiful little girl!
Saturday, July 28, 2012
The Hitchhiker. Part 2.
The Hitchhiker. Part 2.
Where did we leave off? Ahh, yes. Life isn't about the destination, it's about the journey. At least, that is one lesson I learned on my adventures with Jacques, the adolescent French hitchhiker whom I had been traveling with. After discovering Meredith, CO for myself, Jacques and I got back on the road towards Aspen. The sun was setting and we were listening to our bellies growl with hunger. We stopped at the only restaurant still serving food, and luckily just before it closed. While the mexican rice, beans, and tacos were delicious, even a cold hot dog would have been divine as long as it quenched the growling of my belly.
With night closing in fast, we decided to find a camping spot to rest off the busy day. Had we planned ahead, we wouldn't have chosen the side of a road to set up camp. The ideal spot would have been the lush park in the city square to rest our eyes, but it just so happened to be overflowing with the locals who were enjoying the sounds of acoustic guitar and indie rock as they danced the night away. We had considered dropping by, but our eyes were barely able to open enough to focus on the road. The music was anything but quiet and so we were forced to the outskirts of town on a dark bend of the road. Jacques was able to put his tent together quickly outside, while I simply unrolled my sleeping bag across the back seat of my car. I locked the doors. Afterall, I had just barely met Jacques.
The rising sun warmed my face and stirred my slumber. Still unsure of what the day had in store, I used my map to devise a roundabout route towards Salida, where I would be meeting a few friends later in the evening. While I prefer rising with the sun, Jacques does not. My coaxing barely caused him to stir as I stood outside his tent. By the time he unzipped his tent, my teeth were already brushed and smiling as I patiently waited for him to gather his belongings. We stopped at a gas station on the way out of town, where I was able to teach him a few tricks of the trade of life on the road. First, a public restroom is the perfect spot to wash your face and teeth and keep yourself fresh, clean, and healthy. Second, whether you prefer your caffeine to be tea or coffee, most hot water is available free of charge with only a small investment in a reusable mug. Last but not least, fast food is not as sustainable as it smells. Don't let your nose deceive your body. Take time to stop at a local grocery store for a fresh food alternative. There are plenty of healthy recipes that don't require a kitchen. It saves money and your health.
With our hot tea in hand, we were off on the road again for another adventure. The caffeine didn't have as much of an effect on Jacques while he returned to his slumber in the passenger seat. The coke ovens in Redstone, CO became our first stop.
We jumped back on the road for another adventure. It wasn't until a few horses caught our attention that we decided to stop. I had never met anyone allergic to horses before Jacques. He kept his distance, while I was able to feel their noses with my palms and feed them a few strands of grass. Their shiny coats were a vibrant triad, contrasting and complementing eachother. They patiently ate as I attempted to capture their beauty. They spoke to eachother without words and posed for each flash.
This was not Jacques' first trip to the United States. He had visited once before to New York with his father and brother. The intrigue of American culture lured him back. Truck stops and tales of greasy food filled many of his adventures across America until now. This was the vision he had imagined when he set off on his journey; escaping the highways to surround himself with mountains.
While many French considered heavy metal a genre undeserving of respect, Jacques listened to it in the privacy of his own company so no one else would be there to notice. Tinkering with electronics was his hobby. Circuitry was his specialty. Confidence seeped through his pores while speaking of his future endeavors as though they already came to fruition.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
The Hitchhiker.
The Hitchhiker.
Traveling out west is unique because you expect to see mountains for the length of the drive, but instead you drive through flat land virtually the entire trip. It isn't until you hit Colorado that the mountains appear in the horizon. I remember my first roadtrip there, and how exciting it was to see the mountain peaks in the distance for the first time. They seem so far away at first until you are suddenly a part of them, driving the switchbacked road across and up, turn, across and up, turn. This particular trip, I was returning to a place I used to call home in order to tie up a few loose ends. This roadtrip marked a significant transition in my life as well as a reinforcement of independence. I decided to leave a day early because I couldn't wait to again travel west. I hadn't decided what the extra day would consist of, until I arrived in Denver.
I had been living in Wisconsin for a year after deciding to go back to school. It was a tough decision to make because I had already spent the majority of my life in school, without focus. I have never lacked ambition, it was just the commitment of a career that made me apprehensive. Since the move, I abandoned my minimalist culture for one surrounded by buildings and traffic. On the day I drove into Denver, a realization struck that there were still buildings and traffic surrounding me had I decided to stay. After looking at the map of Colorado, I noticed a town. It was as though fate were calling my name. After all, the town was named, "Meredith". I headed straight for the mountains and left with enough time to make it there before the sun set.
Driving through the mountains can be difficult because the map fools you into thinking point A and point B are closer than reality. My first attempt at reaching Meredith ended short once I found out that the road leading to Meredith didn't physically exist like the map said it would. It forced me to go back through Leadville and towards Aspen. It was a detour that added an additional 2.5 hours to the trip. It was a detour that would dramatically change the trip.
Once I was on the right route towards my destination, I noticed a man standing at the intersection with his thumb pointed up. I passed him without hesitation, as I was alone in the car and didn't know if I could trust such a stranger. I observed him in my rearview mirror as I sped away, eager to continue. But, something caused me to stop the car. I pulled off the road and watched the curious man on the corner. Other cars had passed without stopping to pick him up. I consider myself to be good at judging character, and there was something special about him. I decided to turn around and ask him where he was headed. After explaining he was en route to Aspen, I told him to jump in. He wore jeans that were torn at the knees with hiking boots, full of dust. He was tall, standing at 6'3" and towering over my small 5 foot nothing stature. His face looked young and he spoke with an accent. He tossed his large backpack into the back seat and climbed in. His name was Jacques.
As we drove up the mountain, he explained how he had arrived at that intersection. He described his decision to leave his French homeland during his summer vacation. He had just graduated high school at a young age of 17 and wanted to see America. He bought a seat on a plane, destined to land in New Jersey. He had decided on hitchhiking across America for two months before starting college in fall. Although he had an accent, he spoke and understood English very well. Before we knew it, Aspen would be approaching any minute and our conversation hadn't stopped since he sat down. I told him about my destination and that he was welcome to join me if he was interested. He answered, "definitely" without hesitation.
We wanted to make it to "Meredith" before the sun set and so our visit to Aspen was brief. According to the map, we had to turn right onto a dirt road, which would lead us to our destination. As we drove, we passed a beautiful reservoir surrounded by mountains and filled with yachts. The windy road seemed to be neverending as we approached the end. When we arrived, a sign posted the population of Meredith to be 25 with a question mark at the end. It consisted of a few scattered houses and a post office/general store that seemed to have been deserted. The yards separating the houses were filled with used boats and cars, and not a soul appeared to welcome us.
I posed for a few pictures, with Jacques clicking away behind my camera. Although the town itself was nothing to be admired, the beautiful reservoir surrounding it was luscious and vital to the surrounding wildlife. Most people in town didn't even know there was a Meredith, CO. Including a park ranger who I had asked for directions earlier in the trip. It was great to enjoy that moment with Jacques, who wasn't a stranger to me anymore. We cracked a cold brew as we drove out of town, and laughed about the nature of our final destination. It wound up not being about the destination at all, but instead the journey there that made it so memorable.
Traveling out west is unique because you expect to see mountains for the length of the drive, but instead you drive through flat land virtually the entire trip. It isn't until you hit Colorado that the mountains appear in the horizon. I remember my first roadtrip there, and how exciting it was to see the mountain peaks in the distance for the first time. They seem so far away at first until you are suddenly a part of them, driving the switchbacked road across and up, turn, across and up, turn. This particular trip, I was returning to a place I used to call home in order to tie up a few loose ends. This roadtrip marked a significant transition in my life as well as a reinforcement of independence. I decided to leave a day early because I couldn't wait to again travel west. I hadn't decided what the extra day would consist of, until I arrived in Denver.
I had been living in Wisconsin for a year after deciding to go back to school. It was a tough decision to make because I had already spent the majority of my life in school, without focus. I have never lacked ambition, it was just the commitment of a career that made me apprehensive. Since the move, I abandoned my minimalist culture for one surrounded by buildings and traffic. On the day I drove into Denver, a realization struck that there were still buildings and traffic surrounding me had I decided to stay. After looking at the map of Colorado, I noticed a town. It was as though fate were calling my name. After all, the town was named, "Meredith". I headed straight for the mountains and left with enough time to make it there before the sun set.
Driving through the mountains can be difficult because the map fools you into thinking point A and point B are closer than reality. My first attempt at reaching Meredith ended short once I found out that the road leading to Meredith didn't physically exist like the map said it would. It forced me to go back through Leadville and towards Aspen. It was a detour that added an additional 2.5 hours to the trip. It was a detour that would dramatically change the trip.
Once I was on the right route towards my destination, I noticed a man standing at the intersection with his thumb pointed up. I passed him without hesitation, as I was alone in the car and didn't know if I could trust such a stranger. I observed him in my rearview mirror as I sped away, eager to continue. But, something caused me to stop the car. I pulled off the road and watched the curious man on the corner. Other cars had passed without stopping to pick him up. I consider myself to be good at judging character, and there was something special about him. I decided to turn around and ask him where he was headed. After explaining he was en route to Aspen, I told him to jump in. He wore jeans that were torn at the knees with hiking boots, full of dust. He was tall, standing at 6'3" and towering over my small 5 foot nothing stature. His face looked young and he spoke with an accent. He tossed his large backpack into the back seat and climbed in. His name was Jacques.
As we drove up the mountain, he explained how he had arrived at that intersection. He described his decision to leave his French homeland during his summer vacation. He had just graduated high school at a young age of 17 and wanted to see America. He bought a seat on a plane, destined to land in New Jersey. He had decided on hitchhiking across America for two months before starting college in fall. Although he had an accent, he spoke and understood English very well. Before we knew it, Aspen would be approaching any minute and our conversation hadn't stopped since he sat down. I told him about my destination and that he was welcome to join me if he was interested. He answered, "definitely" without hesitation.
We wanted to make it to "Meredith" before the sun set and so our visit to Aspen was brief. According to the map, we had to turn right onto a dirt road, which would lead us to our destination. As we drove, we passed a beautiful reservoir surrounded by mountains and filled with yachts. The windy road seemed to be neverending as we approached the end. When we arrived, a sign posted the population of Meredith to be 25 with a question mark at the end. It consisted of a few scattered houses and a post office/general store that seemed to have been deserted. The yards separating the houses were filled with used boats and cars, and not a soul appeared to welcome us.
I posed for a few pictures, with Jacques clicking away behind my camera. Although the town itself was nothing to be admired, the beautiful reservoir surrounding it was luscious and vital to the surrounding wildlife. Most people in town didn't even know there was a Meredith, CO. Including a park ranger who I had asked for directions earlier in the trip. It was great to enjoy that moment with Jacques, who wasn't a stranger to me anymore. We cracked a cold brew as we drove out of town, and laughed about the nature of our final destination. It wound up not being about the destination at all, but instead the journey there that made it so memorable.
Jacques posing in front of a lake at the top of Independence Pass.
A photo opp just outside Aspen.
The dirt road that leads to Meredith.
Reudi Reservoir. The view from the dirt road.
Meredith Field Office sign and me.
The Meredith Store.
Owned & Operated by the Woolley Family.
Population 25?
The Meredith Store.
The view from Meredith.
White River National Forest, Meredith Guard Station.
Out view from the car as we left town.
Meredith, CO 81621
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