When red + white = blue. (Experiments using red cabbage to dye eggs blue)

Abstract:
+ =

Introduction:
A couple of years ago, I learned that it was possible to dye eggs blue using red cabbage.¹ Typically, we have used a variety of artificial coloring options for our egg-dying needs, whether liquid food coloring or the store-bought Paas-type kits. Last year I was determined to try my hand at doing some natural dyes with vegetables. In the end, I gave up on my plans for using onion skins or artichokes. (The water from steaming artichokes is often an intense bright blue-green, but not from the particular ones I made that day). But I followed through with the cabbage.

I had forgotten how long it took to dye the eggs, but looking back at the photos, I see that it did indeed take a lot longer than the food coloring. So be warned: The eggs took a good couple of hours of soaking to get blue.

Methodology:
I started by cutting up some red cabbage and boiling it in some water.²

The resulting juice was quite purple, and I was doubtful that it would produce blue. It was, however, quite pretty. (6:18 p.m.)

We dunked the first egg and let it soak. 16 minutes later, a peek showed the egg looking somewhat lilac-colored. (6:34 p.m.)

At some point, I added a bit of vinegar to the cabbage juice, inspired by the instructions for dying eggs on the box of food coloring. The purple cabbage juice turned even redder, which made me even more doubtful of achieving blueness. So I poured some more cabbage juice into another glass to have one without vinegar, and dunked another egg to soak.

Here we are, almost an hour after first dunk. Getting to be the kids’ bedtime. Time to break out the chemicals. Here’s Phoebe, squeezing out some blue food coloring. (7:22 p.m.)

I don’t have a time for when the first egg (from the vinegar mixture) came out, but it did indeed come out blue eventually. Having read up a bit on red cabbage (as one is wont to do), I had learned that red cabbage juice changes color based on pH levels. Acid leads to redder colors, and adding something alkaline, and raising the pH, should make it bluer. I then tried adding baking soda to the cabbage juice with the vinegar. The change was instant and dramatic, turning from red to greenish blue.

Here we are, hours after the first dunk. (11:27 p.m.) The two glasses show “neutral” cabbage juice (left), and alkaline cabbage juice (right). In the background are the rest of the completed eggs, mostly dyed with food coloring. (I think the first cabbage dyed one is there in the photo, too. Second row, left, behind a yellow egg.)

Results:
Here are the chemically-dyed (top) and cabbagely-dyed (bottom) blue eggs arranged together. The lighter-colored leftmost cabbage-dyed egg is the one from the baking soda solution. (Blotchiness is due to condensation that happened from putting the previously-refrigerated eggs outside for the egg hunt.)

3 of one, a half half dozen of the other.

Discussion
In the process, I realized why it is that it helps to add vinegar to dye eggs. Egg shells are composed primarily of calcium carbonate. Calcium carbonate is commonly used to neutralize acidity and raise the pH level: it is the main ingredient of antacids such as Tums, as well as agricultural lime. Acids can dissolve calcium carbonate. I’m guessing that adding vinegar starts to break down the egg shell, allowing the color to permeate and bond more quickly to the shell.

This would explain why the redder cabbage juice with added acidity led to a bluer shell (or got there faster) than the bluer-appearing cabbage juice with baking soda added.

Future study:
This year, I’m hoping to try the cabbage dye again, and also to experiment with beets, carrots, berries, and turmeric. I also may play around with acidity levels of the dye solutions again, as well as using brown eggs in addition to white. I wonder if pre-soaking an egg in vinegar would make it more permeable to dyes. (Did you know that you can dissolve the shell off an egg with vinegar? That’s another science experiment for us to do.)

Conclusions:
Can you tell I’ve been wrapped up in academic writing? I need to get to bed.³

References:
More resources on using natural food dyes for eggs can be found at various places around the web:
Natural Easter Egg Dyes on about.com, Making natural Easter egg dye, Three ways to dye eggs, Natural Easter Egg Dyes

Appendix:
Here are all of the photos from above, plus a few more.

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—
¹ I think it was from NotSoSage, who sadly, has purged her blog archives. I’m pretty sure she also made red/purple eggs using red onion skins.
² That’s not entirely true, I started by buying a red cabbage. And there were steps leading up to that as well. I had to get up in the morning, for example. Sometimes that is the hardest step.
³ Seriously, I need to get to bed.

tine’s happy day valen

Theo wishes you a tine’s happy day valen.


Phoebe wishes you a Happy Valentine’s Day.

As for me, I haven’t made any valentines yet this year, and certainly nothing to top last year’s paper heart. I do feel I deserve credit, though, for overseeing and assisting Phoebe with the production of over 40 valentines. (Over twice as many as last year.) This year we started with some pre-made blank cards, and had a bit of assistance from from stamps and stickers (thanks to the resourcefulness of a neighbor/friend), which greatly sped up the process. (Especially after Phoebe spent several hours on the first 10 or so cards, and realized that she had to make at least a couple dozen more. She already complains about not having enough hours in the day.) I feel especially pleased with myself that I was able to rein in my control freak tendencies, and let Phoebe do her thing with minimal interference, such that she had (mostly) complete control over the art direction.

And if you don’t mind stale candy hearts, please revisit my Valentine’s Day treats from previous years: (Click the images to see the posts.)

Want to make your own candy hearts? Visit the ACME Heart Maker.

Enter the Dragonfruit

On my trip to Hong Kong last August, the morning of the start of the conference, a group of attendees and I arrived at the conference venue in search of breakfast. Winding up in a little cafe in the sprawling convention center, we purchased a variety of baked goods and hot beverages. A colleague of mine also bought a container of mixed fruit slices. Mingled among the identifiable slices of melon and pineapple were a couple of rectangular white slabs, speckled throughout with little black dots. My colleague was kind enough to share her fruit, doling out slivers of the mysterious thing to the half dozen of us sharing the table. I had a little nibble, and found it to be pleasant: quite soft, a bit like a cross between a cantelope and a watermelon in texture, and with a bit of crunch from the seeds. Perhaps it was the presence seeds, but the taste reminded me a bit of kiwi, but much milder. Someone at the table was able to suggest that the fruit was a dragonfruit. I had no idea what such a thing was, or would look like outside of a container of mixed fruit slices. (But I did have a strong suspicion that it didn’t grow in rectangular slabs.)

A couple of days later found me on a fairly cringeworthy bus tour, which in retrospect did get me some good photos and a few stories to tell. It also landed me in front of a fruit stall, where (among other fruit options) there was a big stack of brightly colored dragonfruits (identified to me by my tour companion). I bought one.

While I intended to eat it, I admired it primarily for its looks. Here are a couple of photos of it as it posed while waiting for the cringeworthy bus. (Actually the tour bus wasn’t the problem. The tour guide was.)

It wasn’t until a couple more days had passed that I had a chance to try it. Here it is, back in my hotel room, sitting on a hotel towel. In spite of its resemblance to dragon scales, I found that the skin to be surprisingly easy to cut with the dull standard plastic knife I had.

It sliced up easily, revealing the the flesh inside with its speckling of black seeds. (I hadn’t been sure yet whether I’d gotten the same kind, as there is also a variety with red flesh inside, and a similar-looking outside.)

I seem to recall that the skin slipped off the fruit easily, but I have no supporting photographic evidence. I didn’t eat the skin, in any case. (I don’t actually know whether one can or should, but I have the impression that people don’t.)

(Sadly, this particular dragonfruit was more photogenic than it was tasty. It didn’t have even the hint of the kiwi-like tartness of the earlier fruit I’d sampled. In fact, it didn’t have much flavor at all.)

–
More dragon things to come…

Enter the (Year of) the Dragon

Happy Chinese New Year! I have plans to bring on the dragons this week in celebration of the Year of the Dragon. For tonight, though, I will leave you with this message from Phoebe:

(John and I found this note in the living room a couple of weeks ago. Neither of us knew anything about it. For those of you in California, I hope this warning isn’t reaching you too late.)

Christmas finery, a retrospective

Both kids chose to wear their Santa-esque finery today, making this the third year wearing these outfits. (Did you ever see my Jingle Bells movie of the kiddos from 2 years ago? We know how to do festive at our house.)

Clearly, I have a thing for the Santa-style garments. I always loved wearing a Santa hat on Christmas morning, if one was available. (With all our moves, we didn’t always have the same things each Christmas.) I remember really wanting to get myself a red velvet dress with white furry trim, but that has yet to happen. Instead, I live vicariously through my children.

Christmas Day, 2011: Theo, age 3 years 4 months and Phoebe, age 5 years 10 months.

Christmas Day, 2010: Theo, age 2 years 4 months, and Phoebe, 4 years 10 months

Christmas Day, 2009: Phoebe, 3 years 10 months and Theo, 1 year 4 months.

Christmas Day, 2008: Phoebe, age 2 years, 10 months.

Christmas Day, 2008: Theo, age 4 months.

Christmas Eve, 2008: Phoebe, age 2 years, 10 months.

Christmas Eve Eve Eve or so, 2007: Phoebe, age 1 year, 10 months.

Christmas Day, 2006: Phoebe, age 10 months. No Santa hat, but a festive bow.

It seems highly unlikely that the current outfits will fit another year. Who knows what the kids will want to wear next Christmas. (A few weeks ago, Theo proclaimed that he wanted to be Einstein for Christmas this year, but we didn’t come through with the costume for him. He’d be pretty cute in a wild wig and bushy white mustache, though…)

holiday traditions and musical interludes

Guitars reflected in a silver ball at the music store.

A few nights ago, John had a company party to go to, so the kids and I started in on the evening routine without him. Inspired by having sampled some delicious latkes at Phoebe’s class holiday party on Monday (which included both Christmas and Hanukkah treats and activities), and having just bought a big bag of potatoes, I decided I would try my hand at making latkes. (Wow, that was a really long sentence.) Anyhow, I made latkes, in honor of Hanukkah. I consulted the great oracle of Google, and got down to business peeling and grating. I have to say, I made some pretty tasty latkes.

The whole process also took probably longer than I’d intended, and it was after 6 by the time the kids and I sat down to eat our meal of latkes, fried eggs, latkes, steamed broccoli, and more latkes. (Phoebe declared the meal so delicious that she high-fived me.) I may have eaten far, far too many latkes. (From what I understand, that is also a Hanukkah tradition.)

After dinner, it was time for Phoebe and I to practice the violin. John usually takes Theo upstairs to start his shower while Phoebe and I practice downstairs. Since John wasn’t home yet, I thought Theo could keep us company in the parlor, which is where we always practice. (Really, some people my call it the living room. But when we moved into this house, we declared the “family room” to be our “living room,” and the official “living room” became the parlor. I like the word parlor. I mean, who would remember something like “‘step into my living room,’ said the spider to the fly.” Not that this is how the actual quote from the poem went. It’s just what people remember. I mean, with “parlor,” in place of “living room.” I suppose “den” might have also worked, for the spider, at least. But not for our house. We have a parlor.) The parlor is also where we have our Christmas tree. (I mention this, because this will be relevant shortly.) (Notice my subtle attempt at foreshadowing.)

When Phoebe and I practice her violin exercises together, we both sit on the floor. However, I had just bought myself a book of Christmas songs for the violin, and since Phoebe putters around a lot as she sets up her violin, I sat in a chair so I could set the book in my music stand, and played a bit. Theo was hanging an ornament he had made at daycare on the tree. Phoebe sat on the floor, opened up her violin case, and then suddenly wandered off to look at her gingerbread house. At that moment, Theo stepped back to look at his ornament on tree…and stepped directly onto Phoebe’s violin.

I’m not sure what noise escaped from me as I looked up and saw his foot land on the neck of Phoebe’s little quarter-sized violin (I think it was some sort of squeak), but I remember the exceedingly alarmed look on Theo’s face. I jumped up, and hurriedly set down my own violin. The trouble is, you can’t really hurriedly set down a violin. I basically dropped it. It made a loud crack and thwong noise as a couple of the pegs hit the coffee table and came unwound. I may have made additional noises.

Both children wailed.

In the end, I was able to assess that both violins were pretty much okay, if seriously out of tune. Happily, Theo managed to step on one of the less fragile parts of the instrument, and his weight was probably somewhat taken by the case, since the violin was still in it. He still felt awful. And so did Phoebe, for having left her violin open and on the floor. And so did I, for not having been paying enough attention to the actions of my small children around rather fragile instruments. And for having dropped my violin. Phoebe, though, was much comforted by the fact that we had, all three, made mistakes, which she enumerated repeatedly.

Did I mention I made latkes? They were delicious.

—

In case you didn’t manage to check out of all Neil’s fantastic Christmahanukwanzaakah Concert, which had musical contributions from a variety of different holiday cultural traditions, I wanted to share with you this trio of lovely ukelele productions. These talented women inspired me so much that I looked longingly at the ukeleles at the music store when I went to my violin lesson. (Not that I expect that ukeleles are much sturdier than violins.)

I’m totally smitten with the uber-catchy “we like to celebrate chrannukah,” by Jenny Mae.

Then there’s Elly of Buggin’ Word, Rockin’ around the Christmas Tree. (Please check out the adorable “shuke” (shirt uke) her son is wearing)

And lest the southern hemisphere feel left out, here’s Juli Ryan with her charming rendition of a New Zealand folk song: “Haere Mai Everything is Ka Pai”

Baby, it’s cold inside.

It’s time for The Sixth Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert, and I managed to get my act together this year. (As promised.) I wrote lyrics. I sang. A duet. I even made a short movie. If you want to hear me singing, and want to see more proof of my insanity, go check out the concert at Neil’s place. (I’m all the way at the bottom, probably because of the lateness of my submission. I said I got my act together, not that I did so in a timely way…) Make sure you check out some of the other fantastic submissions of songs and photos, too. It’s a whole load of multi-holiday festiveness.

And here are my all-new¹ lyrics, based on Frank Loesser’s holiday standard:

Baby, It’s Cold Inside
This cold really blows
                (Yeah baby it’s cold inside)
I can’t feel my toes
                (Yeah baby it’s cold inside)
This whole house has been
                (Been keeping the fuel use down)
As cold as snow
                (I know the temp’s been kept real low)
My fingers will start to fall off
                (Well why did take your gloves off?)
My thumbs will surely drop on the floor
                (I’ll try to stop the draft from the door)
I’m going for the thermostat now
                (No, baby just put on your hat now)
But maybe just a half degree more
                (Are those all the layers you wore?)
My earlobes will freeze
                (Look at this scarf I wear)
My limbs will all seize
                (Try some long underwear)
I wish I knew how
                (You look like a snowman now)
To warm my feet
                (Put on more socks, don’t touch the heat)
I’m sure that I’ll freeze my ass off
                (We’re lucky it’s not the gas off)
This cold is going to break my will
                (At least we’ll have a lower fuel bill)
This cold really blows
                (oh baby don’t give in)
Baby it’s cold inside
                Baby it’s cold inside
                                Baby it’s cold inside

¹ “All-new” is not entirely accurate. I wrote this last December, but not in time for Neil’s concert. Last winter, as you may or may not know, was a particularly long, cold and icy one in New England. Seeing as I’ve been working at reducing my personal fossil fuel dependency, I have lobbied for setting the thermostat lower in the winter in our house. While our house isn’t really old, it isn’t super new either. What it is is super drafty. The result is that it can get downright chilly at times. I have many memories of the cool indoors from growing up; wearing layers of sweaters and warm socks is a winter tradition. I bundled up quite a lot last winter. But there aren’t enough socks and sweaters in the world to make me tolerate the wintertime temperatures in our downstairs bathroom:

The Opposite of Chipmunks: Cloying Holiday Songs and Their Antidotes

Has the holly jolly omnipresence of Christmas music been threatening your sanity? Before you let Rudolf drive your sleigh over the edge, just adjust your dials. I’ve put together a playlist of holiday song antidotes to help get the relentless ring of jingle bells out of your ears. ¹

• All I want for Christmas Is You: What do I get? The Buzzcocks
• The Happy Elf: Working for the Man, P. J. Harvey
• Santa Claus Is Coming To Town: Man That You Fear, Marilyn Manson
• Here Comes Santa Claus: Psycho Killer, Talking Heads
• Frosty The Snowman: Damn it Feels Good to Be a Gangsta, Geto Boys
• The Little Drummer Boy: Don’t Bang the Drum, The Waterboys
• I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus: Lapdance, N*E*R*D (No one Ever Really Dies)
• White Christmas: Black Celebration, Depeche Mode
• Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Only Happy When It Rains, Garbage
• A Child This Day Is Born: Birth, School, Work, Death, The Godfathers
• Holly Jolly Christmas: Helter Skelter, The Beatles
• Oh Holy Night : Head Like a Hole, Nine Inch Nails
• Sleigh Ride: Garbage Truck, Sex Bob-omb
• Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire: Burning Down the House, Talking Heads
• Do You Hear What I Hear? Smells Like Teen Spirit, Nirvana
• All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth: Bloodletting, Concrete Blonde
• Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree: The Downward Spiral, Nine Inch Nails
• Christmas Shoes: These Boots Were Made For Walkin’, Nancy Sinatra
• It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas: Atrocity Exhibition, Joy Division
• Home For The Holidays: Institutionalized, Suicidal Tendencies
• It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year: Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now, The Smiths
• Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer: Don’t Push Me, 50 Cent
• The Chipmunk Song: That’s When I Reach for My Revolver, Moby

How about you? Any songs in particular spurring you to spike your eggnog or jam candy canes into your ears? And what songs might you use to counteract?

¹ I did a bit of Christmas shopping yesterday, mostly looking for things like pajamas for the kids. I can’t even count how many times I heard Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is You.” All I wanted for Christmas shopping was a break from the treacly music. It was such a relief to get back to my car and put on my iPod. When Joy Division came up on shuffle, I knew I’d found an antidote to the ravages of holiday cheer.²

² For the record, I don’t actually hate holiday music. Some of it I actually like. I just can hear too much of it, especially when the songs are so saccharine that they make me throw up a little.³

³ Oh, fine, I do hate some holiday music.⁴

⁴ Would this be a good time to promote Neil’s Sixth Annual Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert? I may even participate again. You’ve been warned.

lights and highlights

Theo in the glow of the fire engine lights.

The town next to ours, which is where Phoebe takes her karate classes, has a parade each year a few weeks before Christmas to mark the lighting of the trees on the town green. The parade includes marching bands and groups from local businesses and organizations. I wouldn’t describe most of what is in the parade as being “floats,” but there are a number of trucks pulling decorated trailers. In fact, Phoebe’s karate school participates each year, and invites all students to come in their uniforms and ride a trailer in the parade. This was the second year that Phoebe got to be in the parade. (This is her third year in karate, but that first winter, when she was not yet 4, our timing didn’t work out to meet up with the group. Plus it was a miserably cold, wet, sleety night.)

While John and Phoebe went early to meet up with the karate school to ride the trailer, Theo and I went a bit later to watch the parade. Last year, I tried so hard to get a picture of Phoebe in the parade, and failed miserably. This year, I decided I’d just try to wave to her. It was a much happier experience.

It was a chilly evening (they wait until it starts getting dark to start the parade, as it ends with the tree-lighting), but Theo and I enjoyed ourselves. We stopped in at a bank to hear a barbershop quartet (lots of the downtown business host events), and then wandered up and down the sidewalks to keep warm until the parade started. The highlight for Theo was almost certainly seeing the firetrucks. In fact, he may have had the impression that the event was primarily a firetruck parade. Firetrucks not just from the town, but from many neighboring towns, participated. All were decked out in some sort of holiday decorations (I think there may be a contest), and all had lights and sirens blaring. It was quite loud. Theo was enthralled.

I’m sure that at some point in my life, I might have mocked this sort of event, but I admit I find it a charming holiday tradition. It was all so very earnest. And while pretty much all of the participation by local businesses was no doubt done for PR and advertising reasons, the event didn’t feel very commercial. It wasn’t about stuff. It was about community, and festiveness. And really, really loud sirens.

Marching band.

A specimen of the decorated vehicles on parade.

A few firetrucks in the long, long line.

The last firetruck brought Santa. It’s his job to turn on the trees.

Here’s the barbershop quartet.