How to pack

We passed through the storm without incident. We still have power, and no damage. However, I'm heartsick at what's happened to NYC. I still consider myself a New Yorker, and New York was the first (and really, only) city I ever loved. I hope all my friends there are okay.

Also, Happy Halloween!

I spent the last couple of days packing and watching CNN. So, today's moving post will be about packing.

The women in my family are known for their ability to, as my dad puts it, "pack nine pounds of crap in a five-pound bag." Remember, every box you move is a box that you're paying for, and lifting, and unpacking. So it behooves you to have as few boxes as possible. That's one of the reasons why it pays to be ruthless when culling. (Less stuff = less stuff to pack = less stuff to move.)

Start with the stuff you don't use on a daily basis, and slowly work in toward the stuff you use constantly. Don't bother with trying to keep the kitchen stuff separate from the bathroom stuff; when you're packing a box, everything is fair game.

When you pack a box, pack it tight. I mean TIGHT. If you pack a box full of books, and there's a little space left over in the corner, maybe the size of a coffee cup, put something in that space. You want to use every available cubic centimeter in every box. To maximize space, of course, but also to keep items from rattling around loose.

If you're wrapping fragile items, wrap them in your own linens--towels, sheets, washcloths, potholders. I've used sweaters and scarves and socks as packing material before, as well. Quilts, blankets, and curtains can be used to wrap pictures and furniture. Old newspapers make great packing material, too. Ditto plastic bags, Ziploc bags, and trash bags (all of which can be saved and reused after the move). I'm hoping to get all the way through this move without having to buy bubble wrap.

Spices and small kitchen items can be burrowed inside glassware. Silverware can be wrapped in newspaper, a few pieces at a time, and wedged into corners. Small office supplies--pens, boxes of paper clips, Post-it note pads--can also be wedged into small spaces. Packing a jar or a coffee cup? Put something inside it first.

Remember to remove batteries from things, and to remove the light bulbs from lamps. If you're dismantling something (say, a bookshelf), put the screws in a Ziploc bag and tape it to the item in question.

The last box packed should be the first one unpacked, and it should contain all the basics you'll need before the serious unpacking begins. To wit:

Shower curtain, and rings
Towels
Toilet paper, and maybe a roll of paper towels
Sheets and a pillow
Box cutter
Tools (if you don't have a separate toolbox)
Toiletries (toothbrush, etc.)
Flashlight, just in case

Mark the exterior of the boxes well. You can use a shorthand (B for books, K for kitchen stuff), but make sure each side of the box is marked. If a box contains fragile items, or needs to stay right-side up, mark those as well. I keep a roll of packing tape and a Sharpie in each room.

Examples I'm particularly proud of:

I removed all my shoes from their respective shoe boxes, and filled one box with all my shoes--nestled together end to end, and packed in tight. I put socks in between the shoes, and filled the spaces in the box with bracelets, unspooled Christmas ribbon, and belts.

I rolled all the wrapping paper into one large roll, wrapped a couple of posters around that, and dropped the whole thing into a poster tube.

A box of wine glasses had a little room at the top, so I took my espresso cups out of their boxes, wrapped each one in newspaper, and dropped one in each glass slot. I spread some maps over the top to fill the box all the way.

I'm also starting a separate pile of things that will stay with us, in the cross-country car journey, rather than be packed. Tomorrow's post: maybe some actual cooking.

What to do when you're moving, Part 1

I've moved an average of once a year since...well, since I started college. Let's see, that was 20 (!) years ago. So I consider myself a pro at moving. Especially since the move from San Diego to Boston, where we had exactly two and a half weeks from start to finish to move cross-country. We were both still working full-time. I made it happen.

Fortunately, we have a little more time with this cross-country move. But whether you're moving across the country or across town, the first steps are the same.

(For the purposes of these posts, I'll ignore the obvious first steps, like: Alert your landlord. Alert your parents. Alert your current workplace.)

1. Cull. Go through all your closets, all your boxes, all your bookshelves. Examine, ruthlessly. In our case, we're able to be particularly ruthless, since we're moving cross-country on our own dime. Is this item worth the hassle and expense of hauling it 3,000 miles? In most cases, not really. Some things with sentimental value will live in my parents' garage for a bit; the rest will either be sold (Craigslist) or donated to the Salvation Army (tax credit).

We're selling off all the furniture, except for the bed, my red leather chair, and Grandma's dining room table. We weeded out what's left of our book and movie collections (See Making money off your stuff), took some household items to a furniture consignment shop, and have started a huge donation pile.

Examples of things that are not worth hauling cross-country: a fake Christmas tree. Cheap Target nightstands. Cheap Target floor lamps. Fans. Gardening implements. Anything that is missing parts or only partially works. Our second car.

2. Get rid of all the stuff in the pantry. Not by throwing it out, but by using it. You won't be able to transport liquids (oils, vinegars, booze), and canned goods are heavy. The only kitchen stuff I'll pack are the spices, and I'm trying to use those up, too.

3. Ditto cleaning supplies and stuff in the bathroom--shampoo, etc. Any leftovers (partial bottles of ketchup/dishwasher detergent/whatever) can be listed on freecycle. Trust me, someone will come to get them. (This is a good way to restock on the other side of your move, FYI.)

4. Start making a list of what will need to be replaced on the other side. Furniture, pantry supplies, household items, stuff from the drugstore, whatever.

Up next: Packing!

Selling a car

We've sold one of our cars.

We sold the Camry in anticipation of our upcoming cross-country move; the Prius gets such good gas mileage, that it's become our primary vehicle. The Camry was handy when we were both commuting to work, but with one of us unemployed, it's sat largely untouched in our driveway for six months. Rather than have to deal with getting two cars cross-country, we decided to sell it. If we need a second car in Seattle, we can purchase one there.

We took the easy way out: we simply returned it to the dealership. No, it wasn't a lease. Dealerships will buy a car directly off you, without it being a trade-in. We made an appointment at the nearest Toyota dealership, and brought it in. They looked it over, and offered to buy it back for what we still owed on the loan. Some minimal paperwork later, and we walked off the lot sans one car and one car payment. The whole process, from start to finish, took about an hour.

Now, if the dealership had not offered us what we still owed, I would have then taken the car to Carmax, to see what they would offer, and then listed it on Craigslist to see what the private market would bear.

It's easier than you think to sell a car you don't technically own, especially if it's not to a private buyer. The blue book value was about $2,000 more than what we owed; it's possible I could have made a profit, especially if I'd shopped it around a little, but I have enough to worry about with this move. I don't have to make a car payment on it anymore, which is all I really cared about.

That same day, I returned the plates to my nearest AAA office (they can do simple things like cancelling plates, saving me most of a day waiting in line at the DMV), got them cancelled and got a refund on the registration, removed the car from our insurance policy (did that online, took 5 minutes, saved $60 a month), and returned the EZ-Pass box.

I think I spent more time and energy selling the sofa.

Butterscotch pudding

What better way to use up the last of the milk?

2 1/2 cups whole milk
2/3 cup brown sugar
Pinch of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 tablespoons cornstarch
2 tablespoons butter

Put 2 cups milk, the sugar, and the salt in a small saucepan over medium heat. Cook just until it begins to steam. Combine the cornstarch and the remaining 1/2 cup milk in a bowl and stir to blend, with no lumps. Add the cornstarch mixture to the pan. Cook, stirring occasionally, until it thickens and just begins to boil. Reduce the heat to very low and continue to cook, stirring, another 5 minutes or so. Stir in the butter and vanilla. Pour into small ramekins and cover with plastic wrap. Refrigerate until chilled.

Storm prep

As Sandy tracks toward New England, we're taking some basic precautions. Remember Irene?

We already have flashlights, extra batteries, and plenty of candles. We have a gas stove, so we'll still be able to cook, even if we lose power. Ditto water--city water isn't dependent on power. (It'll just be very cold water.) Temperatures are supposed to be relatively mild, so it won't be a catastrophe if we don't have heat for a few days.

As far as food is concerned, I plan to spend today cooking up the last meat in the freezer (a whole chicken) and making a batch of soup, as well. The freezer is full of frozen broth; if that thaws, no big deal. There isn't anything in the refrigerator that will go bad quickly, outside of cream and eggs, and we can eat the eggs first. Cheese can sit at room temperature for a while, as can vegetables.

A few kitchen tips:

A full freezer maintains its temperature for much longer than an empty one. If your freezer isn't full, fill some Tupperware with water and freeze those. When you lose power, don't open the freezer for at least 24 hours; everything will stay cold for at least that long (if it's full, and you don't open the door). After 24 hours, you can use the still-frozen Tupperware containers to line a cooler, at which point you can transfer the contents of your refrigerator to the cooler. Once the ice melts, you then have some extra containers of water, in case something happens to the water supply.

Try not to open the refrigerator any more than absolutely necessary during those first 24 hours, either, to preserve the inside temperature as long as possible.

Many things can stay at room temperature, if need be, and still be fine. Cheese, juice, vegetables, greenery, condiments, and butter will all be perfectly safe outside the cooler. If you have a gas stove, or a camper stove, there's no need to stock up on canned soup. You can cook just like normal, and heat up things on the stove.

Do your laundry now, and make sure you have a full tank of gas.

If we lose power, it won't change much. We'll be doing exactly what we're doing now: packing, and drinking the last things in the liquor cabinet, except by candlelight.

Chicken and lentils

This is a great one-pot dish, somewhere between a stew and a big messy pile of goodness. If you want something closer to a stew, add more liquid; if you want something closer to chicken with juicy lentils, add a little less.

Bonus: I've almost used up all the lentils!

1/2 cup olive oil
1 whole chicken, cut up (I used a package of eight boneless chicken thighs)
1 onion, diced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 cup tomato sauce
1 teaspoon coriander
1 bunch each cilantro and parsley, chopped
4 1/2 cups water or chicken broth
2 3-inch cinnamon sticks
1 1/2 cups brown or green lentils

In a Dutch oven, brown the chicken in the olive oil. Remove from the pan once browned on all sides, and add the onion, garlic, ginger, tomato sauce, coriander, cilantro and parsley. Salt and pepper. Add the broth (or water) along with the cinnamon sticks and lentils.

Cook on low, covered, for about 30 minutes or until lentils are almost tender. Remove the cinnamon sticks. Add the chicken back in and cook for another 10-20 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked through.

Penne with garlic and broccoli rabe

This recipe is straight from Smitten Kitchen. It's incredibly easy to throw together: a box of penne (or other shape), a head of broccoli rabe, a few cloves of garlic, a half cup of olive oil, seasonings, parmesan cheese.

Reprinted below:

1 pound pasta, whatever shape you like (but chunky ones will match up better with the rabe)
1 pound broccoli rabe, heavy stems removed, remaining stems and leaves cut into 1- to 2-inch sections
1/2 cup olive oil
5 garlic cloves, peeled and minced or pressed
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes, or more or less to taste
About 1 heaping teaspoon Kosher salt (or more to taste)
To serve: Grated Parmesan or Romano cheese

 Bring a huge pot of salted water to a boil. Add pasta and five minutes before its cooking time is up, add the broccoli rabe. It will seem like too much for the water, but with a stir or two, the rabe should wilt and cook alongside the pasta. Drain rabe and pasta together and pour into serving bowl. In the same pot or a tiny one, heat the olive oil with the garlic, pepper flakes and Kosher salt over moderate heat, stirring frequently for 3 to 4 minutes, or until the garlic becomes lightly golden. Pour mixture over pasta and toss to evenly coat. Shower with freshly grated cheese and eat at once.