Homemade Vanilla Extract

Around Thanksgiving, I was admittedly wasting time on Pinterest looking through the DIY/Crafts category (something I do quite frequently, to be honest...), and I stumbled upon this cute picture for making labels for homemade vanilla extract.  I had no idea how vanilla extract was made, or that it could be made at home, so I began to research how to make vanilla extract.

The clearest instructions I found were on Beanilla, a website that sells vanilla beans and other cool stuff.  I decided that this was a really cool idea, so I talked to my dad about doing it for Christmas gifts.  He loved the idea!  So we began to look at cheap ways to get bottles and vanilla beans, since Beanilla was too expensive for our budget.  After more research, I found a seller (here) on eBay who sold vanilla beans for a lot less.  We ordered some Madagascar Bourbon beans, 12 glass bottles, and my dad brought back two bottles of bourbon from Kentucky.  We decided to use bourbon instead of vodka because we thought it would add a little depth and sweetness to the extract.  Plus it sounded cool :)

all you need is 3 ingredients - vanilla beans, a bottle, and bourbon (or brandy or vodka)

After everything arrived at the house, we got out the beans, split them into twelve groups of five beans each, and then cut them all lengthwise.

getting everything set out - had to try the bourbon first, of course!

separate the beans into groups of five

split lengthwise down the middle

The beans themselves are really small - they're the little black dots inside the pod.

tiny beans!

my dad, working on splitting the beans

We put them beans into the bottles, and then filled the bottles with bourbon.  Now, the extract has to sit for a while - at least 8 weeks - before it's ready for use.

tip - use a funnel.  less spillage.

at this point, it only smells like bourbon.

Our next step was to make the labels.  We were using my mother's Cricut and a ton of card stock to make our labels.  The Cricut, for those of you who don't know, is a die-cutting machine.  It's fantastic.  I love making cards with it.    We decided on a simpler design after a few test runs - a tag cut out of patterned card stock, and on top of it, the same-sized tag cut out of vellum with the label part printed on it.

the card stock for the background

cutting the vellum

the assembled tags

A couple weeks passed between the making of the extract and the labels, so the final product shown with the labels is much darker.

the final product!!! at this point, starting to smell a lot more like vanilla

The most complicated part in the end was making the tag - mostly because we had to print on the vellum exactly where the Cricut was going to cut.  Good thing I've got an engineer for a father... But all in all, it was a pretty simple project that was lots of fun.  Best of all - it's the gift that keeps on giving!  You can top it off with more alcohol as you run through it, and it will replenish itself.

Gramps

Several weeks ago, as I was wrapping up my last few days of classes, we made a decision to join my mother and sisters on a trip to Scotland to visit my granddad.  He wasn't doing well, and it looked like this would be our last opportunity to see him and spend time with him before he passed away.  So the day after my last exam, I met my family at the airport and we flew to Scotland.

After we landed, we drove about half an hour south of Glasgow to Lesmahagow.  When we finally got to his room, however, I was completely unprepared for what I saw.  Gramps was so frail and incredibly thin, it broke my heart to see him so ill.  But he smiled when we walked in the door and greeted us by name.  He didn't talk much, it seemed to take too much energy.  But he would listen and pat our hands and smile at us.  Jeff arrived a couple days later, which was his first time meeting Gramps.  I wish he could have met Gramps as we knew him - full of life, witty, loving to tell stories and always spoiling his grandkids.  But Gramps was so happy to finally meet Jeff.  Our time with Gramps had its ups and downs.  There were brief moments when we would see flashes of his old self, and then there were days when he would beg God repeatedly to take him home and all we could do to calm him was sing hymns and hold his hand.  He wouldn't eat more than a few mouthfuls, but never turned down a hot cuppa tea.  He seemed, to me, the most lucid when he was praying.  He would sleep on and off for most of the time we were there, but also liked to get up and sit in his chair or look out the window at the lochs.  The last day we were there was especially difficult - I knew that it was last time I'd get to sit by him and hold his hand, the last time I'd hear him tell me he loved me and see him smile.  We all hugged him one last time and said our farewells.

We returned to the States the next day after having spent a week in Scotland.  We celebrated Christmas with my family, and then flew out to Texas the day after Christmas to spend time with Jeff's family.  We had Christmas with Jeff's family on the 27th, with 15 people (including 6 children 5 and under) staying at the house.  The next morning, I got the phone call.  I knew as soon as I heard my mum's voice that Gramps was gone.

Gramps was 92 years old when he passed away, but he didn't really look that old until the last year or two.  He's always looked the same to me, although he had gone through several different styles of eyeglasses in my lifetime.  He was already white-haired when I was born.  He was 70 then, and convinced that 70 years was all of his allotted lifetime.  So we always poked fun at him when ever he would say that he wouldn't make it to the next year, since he said that pretty much every year since I was born.  I cannot describe how grateful I am that he lived as long as he did.  When we were little, he would tell us stories and let us stay up late watching the Lawrence Welk Show after bath time.  He spoiled us rotten, usually with M&Ms.  He was a very inventive cook, sometimes the food was spectacular, and other times it was awful and we'd have to sit there and eat every last bite on our plate.  He made the best lemon curd I've ever tasted.  He always smelled just a little bit like whiskey - he had a glass every night for most of his life.  I always told him that was why he lived so long, the whiskey was acting as a preservative.  He loved Gospel music, and classical music, and listening to his grandkids sing old hymns.  He would encourage us to perform choreographed dances in front of all the little old ladies where he lived, and let us play with his electric scooter and he would race us around the lochs, him on the scooter, us on foot.  He only laughed when we started sending him emails full of pictures of kittens and called him all sorts of nicknames like Grampsy, Grampsywampsy, Grampsywampsywoowoo, and Grampsypoo.  He was full of life and joy and found pleasure in the simple things, like a good cup of tea, or a day trip, or just sitting quietly and enjoying the view from his window with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

When I had to stop attending school and do home-bound schooling during my senior year of high school, I began to skype Gramps every couple of weeks.  He would tell me about the old ladies that were flirting with him, and the books he was writing, and I would tell him about the doctors visits and the things I was learning.  What started as a way to pass the time turned quickly into a weekly part of my routine.  I continued our weekly phone dates when I moved to Jordan.  We had a set time, and rarely ever missed it.  I loved talking to him about my life in Jordan, and listening to him tell me stories from when he was younger and traveling all over.  For 3 years, we talked and laughed and got to know each other so much better.  Once I returned to the States, Gramps' hearing had gotten worse, and it was difficult for him to speak at length. As his health declined, we weren't able to speak as often any more.  Of all the memories I have of Gramps, those phone calls and skype dates were some of the most precious.

Yesterday was Gramps' memorial service.  It broke my heart that I couldn't be there, but I am so thankful that I got to spend that last week with him.  He lived an incredibly full life, and it was a life of faith.  He was an inspiration, and had a great impact on my life and many others.  I miss him terribly.