Ruthless Knitting

Pattern: My own
Size: 32″ bust, 13″ to underarm on body, 5" sleeve length, 7" sleeve opening
Yarn: Interlacements Tokyo (50 percent merino wool, 50 percent silk; 500 yds per 100 g skein), color Taiga; Jaggerspun Zephyr Wool-Silk 2-18 Lace Weight (50 percent Chinese tussah silk, 50 percent fine merino wool; 630 yds per 2 oz), color Basil, held double
Yardage: About 475 yards of Tokyo and 650 yds of Zephyr
Source: Interlacements Yarns; Sarah’s Yarns 
Needles: US 4 (3.5 mm) Knit Picks Harmony circular needles
Gauge: 24 sts and 36 rows = 4″ in pattern
Notes: This project began with the yarn, which I bought through a Yahoo wholesale group a few years ago. Since that time, I have discovered that I am far more interested in knitting garments in solid and semi-solid yarns than in variegated ones, which left me with a bit of a dilemma regarding how to use up the thousand yards of wool/silk in my possession. My plan when I bought the yarn was to make a shawl, but that impulse faded fast. Later, I had the idea of using the Tokyo combined with some matching solid-colored Zephyr to make a baseball-shirt-style sweater with three-quarter-length sleeves — a sort of soft, warm, refined throwback to the popular baseball t-shirts of my youth. I still think that would have been kind of cute, but I sat on the idea long enough that I grew bored with it.

In search of another plan, I discovered wave and box stitch in Barbara Walker’s second treasury of knitting patterns, swatched it, and became smitten. In the book, this pattern is shown in high-contrast yarns, but I love how using two similar colors results in a fabric that seems to have a cellular structure but doesn’t give away the secrets of its construction without close scrutiny. The pattern breaks up the variegation but retains all the interesting color play; it manages to be colorful without, I think, being garish.

I decided to pair wave and box stitch with bands of garter stitch at all the edges of the top. This idea came straight out of Maggie Righetti’s Sweater Design in Plain English, which was also the source of my notion to try out the garment shape she calls a "T-topper." The planning from that point forward was quick and simple: I drew a sketch and a diagram and jotted down about three lines of instructions in my notebook. Then all I had to do was knit, block, and seam.

Since the T-topper shape is something of a throwback to the 1980s (and I am not the kind of gal to wear legwarmers), I wasn’t altogether sure how the finished garment would look on me. It turns out that it’s a pretty flattering cut — and I realized belatedly that I actually have a similarly constructed shirt in my closet that I’ve been wearing to dressy functions for about six years. Duh.

Creating the Tokyo top was simple and pleasurable, and I am so enamored of the result that I intend to write up the pattern and make it available alongside my other free designs in the near future.

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Other posts about the Tokyo top:

• In which I swatch Tokyo for the first time
• In which I swatch Zephyr and outline my baseball sweater plan
• In which I discover wave and box stitch
• In which I cast on
• In which I knit the front
• In which I block the front

I wrote a long post earlier that I lost by accident. Then I went downstairs to run on the treadmill only to discover that the DVD of Heroes I just got from Netflix is the exact same DVD of Heroes that I finished watching and returned last week. Feeling a little cursed, I decided to take the blog in a whole new direction.

But first, a quick knitting status report: I finished up the Tokyo top on Sunday morning and wove in all the ends. It’s fab. I’ll try to take pictures and get a finished object post up sometime in the next few days. Meanwhile, you may have noticed a new sweater project listed over there on the sidebar. It may be the first sweater in a new sweater collection. I’m actually not quite done yet with the Ruthless Knitting Fall/Winter 2007 collection, but I need some time to plan the (rather complicated) sixth and final sweater. And before I knit a stitch on it or on the new collection, I’m going to finish up the second Bird in Hand mitten, which I should have made in December.

Let me delay my revelation still further to point you in the direction of Whatifknits. Sarah-Hope is having a raffle for her one-year blogiversary to benefit animal welfare and protection groups. She’s giving away some fabulous prizes, including a beautiful hand-knit Swallowtail Shawl. Have a peek at her website for details.

So. I was thinking today about websites that I enjoy, and I really do love the ones that include some cooking. Faith of The Knitting Cook posts recipes often, and so does Ysolda, and DesiKnitter. I love to cook, but I don’t particularly like reading about cooking at any length, so I am always pleased when cooking guest stars on knitting blogs. Perhaps five parts knitting + one part cooking = the perfect blog?

In order to investigate this possibility further, I give you a tortilla recipe. I’ve only been making tortillas for a few months, but I am a total convert. Fresh tortillas are relatively easy to make (particularly if you are someone who makes bread regularly), they taste fantastic, they don’t contain any of the freakish ingredients that appear in Azteca "tortillas" and other store brands, and the leftovers make killer huevos rancheros. The recipe I use is from Madhur Jaffrey’s World Vegetarian, which is my favorite cookbook.

Wheat Tortillas

2 c. all-purpose flour [I use King Arthur bread flour]

1/2 tsp. salt

2 Tbsp. vegetable oil (I use olive oil)

warm water

Sift the flour and salt into a bowl. [I am actually too lazy to sift.] Add the oil and rub it into the flour as evenly as possible. Begin to add very warm water slowly, gathering the dough into a ball. You will need about 1/2 cup or a bit more. Knead the ball for about 10 minutes. [Don’t skimp on this part. It’s the only difficult part of the whole recipe.] Now divide it into 8 even portions and make 8 balls from them. Flatten the balls into patties. Put the patties on a large platter or baking tray and cover with a dampened towel or plastic wrap. Set aside for 30 minutes or more.

Set a cast-iron frying pan or griddle on medium-high heat. Allow it to heat up.

Take a ball of dough and dust it lightly in flour. Now roll it out into a 7-inch round on a floured surface. Lift up the tortilla and slap it back and forth between your palms to shake off the extra flour. [I don’t do this, since there is never any excess flour on mine by this point.] Slap the tortilla onto the hot griddle. Let it cook for 45 seconds. It will puff up. Turn it over and cook the second side for another 35 to 45 seconds. Put the cooked tortilla on a plate and cover it with a towel or another upturned plate. Make all the tortillas this way, making sure to wipe off the cast-iron pan with a paper towel after each tortilla is made. [I never wipe off the pan.] If it takes you a while to roll out the next tortilla, turn the heat under the cast-iron pan down to low while you roll it and then turn it up again. [You can easily roll out each tortilla while the previous tortilla cooks.]

I cook the leftover tortillas in a skillet with a little olive oil and whatever toppings I want. You can also reheat them in the oven.

In honor of today’s third annual bloggers’ silent poetry reading, here is a poem by my very talented friend Chuck Rybak. It is drawn from his collection Tongue and Groove, which is currently available from Main Street Rag Publishing Company.

"Tongue and Groove"

I

The hardwood floor, laid yesterday

and fit for sanding, waits to be smoothed,

walkable in bare feet. The worker,

machine firing, bickers on his phone

with a woman, a brutal battle drawn

through the dark and resumed this dawn.

You disrespected me, he says.

He’s kept curses in reserve, hopes to hurl them

while working — the sander drowns him out,

drowns her out, overwhelms their shouts

and he hates repeating

his rage. I can’t hear you,

he yells. Then only the sander speaks,

smoothing things over.

II.

Arguing and installation — tongue and groove.

The boards, pounded into place

the day before, forged a rhythm of roar

and curse and heavy-metal music.

Armed with a mallet, he wed

each word and plank with a blow:

You   stupid   crappy   wood

Why   won’t   you   fit?

Then, as if he were a member

of the band, he’d resume a verse

or melody, mid-line, banging along

with Black Sabbath. In the quiet

that followed, he mentioned his three daughters

and I imagined their daily rush from the door,

the leaps that snag their collars and sleeves

on his thorny tattoos. They swing there,

welcoming him home again.

III.

Then there’s the wood, reclaimed

barn wood, the pine of old farms,

marked by hoof and horn, hail and blade,

by a summer of drought, drink, and punch,

by a kicking calf and her mother stiff

with milk fever. The worker

glosses these scars as "rustic," revels

in the spacing, the random width –

no option for a uniform look,

no pick of consistency. After the seal,

the soak and shine of polyurethane,

my barefoot wife and I walk the floor

of what will be a child’s room.

We kneel and read the knots and grooves,

run our fingers with the grain, observe,

Here is the anger that marked the wood.

Here is the love that smoothed it.