Everyday Cake

100_3796 smI made an ‘everyday’ cake today—a whip-it-out sort of chocolate sheet cake. I normally don’t frost my everyday cakes, but I had a hankering for peanut butter with chocolate, so I looked for a peanut butter icing recipe…and didn’t find one I really liked the look of.

So I tried a new one—a broiled icing—a hot mixture of butter, honey and peanut butter spread on the warm cake and lightly broiled.

“Hmmm…Looks like moth-eaten dragon breath,” said my daughter when she saw it.

“Caramel sludge!” declared my son.

“It looks more like a disease than an icing,” I said.

But the disparaging comments ended when we tasted it—very nutty and not too sweet.

“Pretty good, even if it does look…weird.”

For an everyday cake, that’s really all that matters.

Dinner cheat

100_3792 smOut late today, coming home tired and sporting a headache, I decided to just pull a jar of soup out for dinner.

Then I felt a little guilty about copping out of cooking, and thought I’d make biscuits to go with it.

Then I remembered the pie dough in the fridge (always make extra pie dough when you make it—there are so many glorious ways to use it). Score!

I rolled the dough out as if for a pie, then cut it into shapes with cookie cutters. After I placed the shapes on a baking sheet, I sprinkled them with grated parmesan cheese, and baked them at about 200C (400F) until they were brown and crispy (10-15 minutes…I didn’t really look at the time).

So fun, and so easy!

Dementors

chocbar2 smJ.K. Rowling got it right when she decided that the treatment for dementor attack should be chocolate. Dementors (for the one of you out there who hasn’t either read the Harry Potter books or seen the movies), are horrible creatures that suck all your happiness away, leaving you with only your worst memories.

I’m convinced dementors primarily attack teenagers. In fact, one ambushed my daughter the other day. It was terrible…anger and tears that no motherly words could console.

Fortunately, I knew what to do. We were in town at the time, so treatment was as near as the corner petrol station. I raced in, bought a chocolate bar, and administered it to my daughter.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. Crisis solved! Dementor banished!

Looks like I may have to keep some chocolate on hand for the duration of the teen years…and it must be time to start teaching them the patronus charm.

Wisdom

Not strong enough...

Not strong enough…

It was a mistake. I should have known better. But the day was going to be a busy one, and I’d already forgotten to unload the sack of grain from the car the day before.

But it was early in the morning. I hadn’t had breakfast yet and was feeling hungry and not terribly strong. My body hadn’t yet warmed up.

So when I hefted the 40 kg sack of goat feed into the shed, I lifted it poorly, relying too much on my back and too little on my arms and legs.

I will be sore for days…possibly weeks. The result of pushing too hard.

Two weeks ago I was determined to get my pea trellises up. Instead of asking for help, I tried to do it myself. The trellises aren’t heavy, but they are tall. To move them, I have to stretch as high as I can and walk on tiptoe. Of course, I dropped one, cracking one of the supports in half.

I get frustrated with the limitations of my own body—how short and weak I am, how quickly I tire. I know I shouldn’t. Compared with many women my age, I have the strength and stamina of a workhorse. And, of course, there is nothing I can do about my height. Still, my plans are always bigger than myself, and I am regularly frustrated by my weaknesses.

But frustration isn’t all bad. Having big dreams and pushing ourselves to achieve them is what helps us grow. I am stronger and more efficient in my work than I was ten years ago. In spite of age and a lot of grey hair, I can accomplish more in a day now than I could in the past.

But ten years ago, if I lifted a sack of grain poorly, I wouldn’t have paid so dearly for it—a minor twinge in the back, perhaps—not days of pain and stiffness. The body isn’t so resilient as it once was. Perhaps this is where wisdom is born.

When our bodies can no longer live up to our dreams, we learn to expect less, ask for help, work smarter.

I sure hope so…my back would appreciate a little more wisdom.

Throwback Thursday—Kitchen disaster

quiche smI don’t usually talk about my kitchen disasters, but this one was a winner.

Making quiche on a weeknight is always a bit ambitious. You’ve got to make the crust and the filling, and then it has to bake for a good 45 minutes. It’s one of those meals that I need to start at 4.30 pm in order to have dinner on the table by 6.

Often, if I make quiche on a weeknight, dinner is late. This was the case one day last year. I had my heart set on quiche, but got home late. Made quiche anyway, in a mad whirlwind of activity. Finally got it into the oven and cleaned the kitchen. I was feeling good about my effort—dinner would only be 20 minutes later than usual. No problem.

When the quiche was done, I opened the oven and slid out the rack…and the quiche kept coming. It flew out of the oven as though it had been hurled, frisbee-style by some unseen hand. It soared off the rack and onto the floor, where the whole thing, including the pie plate, split in two. Bits of egg and vegetables flew everywhere, and I stared in stunned disbelief. An hour and a half of preparation lay splattered across the kitchen floor. At almost 6.30 pm, I wasn’t going to be making another dinner. What were we going to eat?

Thankfully, Ian sprang into action, heating up a jar of homemade soup from the cupboard. By the time I had the quiche cleaned off the floor, the soup was on the table.

I am now very careful whenever I pull a quiche from the oven…

Just kidding…

100_0746smWith kidding only weeks away, I thought I’d post this photo of one of my lovely little girls from a couple of years ago, playing King of the Mountain with me in the paddock.

And you wondered where the term “kidding around” came from? I don’t think it has anything to do with human children.

Looking forward to frolicking with the new kids soon!

Mother Hubbard

100_3786 smOld Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard

To get her poor dog a bone.

When she got there cupboard was bare…

 

Mother Hubbard must have had teenage sons.

I never appreciated the appetite of a teenage boy until mine hit that age, but now I feel like Mrs. Hubbard.

My son can eat more than anyone else at the dinner table, then pick at the leftovers in the kitchen as he cleans up. An hour later, he’s hungry for a snack. He can devour a big bowl of peach crisp with whipped cream for dessert, and still need a snack before bed.

He will eat as many cookies, muffins, and scones as he can get away with. He sneaks food when he thinks no one is watching. Dried fruit, crackers, carrots, bread, cheese, nuts…nothing is safe from the human Hoover.

I used to be able to count on four weeks between grocery runs. Now I’m lucky if we make it two weeks before the cupboard looks like Mother Hubbard’s. I’m wondering if my garden will need to be enlarged this year, and I’m thankful I grow so much of our food, and don’t have to pay the supermarket price of feeding this child.

Most of all, I’m thankful I only have one…maybe I’ll bake a cake and take it over to Mrs. Hubbard and her boys…

 

Vernal equinox

100_3776 smToday is one of my favourite days of the year—the day my side of the planet tips over into the sunshine!

I always try to mark the day with a little something special. It might be a cake decorated as a sun, or cupcakes covered in flowers. This year, it was big chocolate cookies half spread with white chocolate to represent the equal night and day of the equinox.

From now until the solstice always seems like such a rush, with planting, kidding, milking, and harvesting. But today I will simply enjoy the sunlight.

So regardless of whether you are experiencing the vernal or the autumnal equinox today, make it a great one, and enjoy whatever the season offers!

Lemon Curd

100_3769 smContinuing with the vitamin C theme from yesterday, this morning’s breakfast was lemon poppy seed muffins with lemon curd.

Lemon curd is one of my favourite excesses. On muffins, scones, cake, or even my morning granola, it is a marvellous burst of flavour that sparkles.

Joy of Cooking (the 1997 edition), has two lemon curd recipes, one of which is reduced-fat lemon curd. I ignored the reduced-fat recipe for years, but one day I didn’t have enough eggs to make the regular recipe, so I tried the reduced-fat one.

Much to my surprise, the entire family preferred the low-fat recipe. I don’t pretend it’s any better for us. Indeed, it’s almost certainly less healthy, as it has twice the sugar (to compensate for the reduced fat). But less butter and more lemon juice make it even tangier than the full-fat recipe.

So for perhaps the first time in my life, I prefer a low-fat version of something! Now I’m working on the recipe, notching back the sugar (because the low-fat version really does taste a bit too sweet), to get the perfect balance of sweet/fat/sour.

Of course, that means I’ve got to make lemon curd regularly…just for scientific purposes, of course. 😉

 

Talk like a pirate, me hearties!

100_3775 cropAhoy, Maties! It’s Talk Like a Pirate Day today, so I figured I’d blog like a pirate!

And what would a pirate blog about?

Probably about the lousy food on board pirate ships, which would invariably lead to a discussion of scurvy.

Scurvy is a condition caused by the lack of vitamin C. It shows a variety of symptoms, including spongy gums, spots on the skin, bleeding of the mucous membranes, tooth loss and fever (just to name a few). Untreated, it is fatal—victims usually bleed to death.

Scurvy is not often a problem on land—most fresh fruits, many vegetables, and even some meats contain vitamin C. But in the days before refrigeration, sailors and pirates, eating a diet of salted meat and dry grains, would often suffer from scurvy. It used to be a major limitation to the length of sea voyages, and between the years 1500 and 1800, it is estimated that at least 2 million sailors died of scurvy. Some ships lost up to 90% of their crew on long journeys, mostly to scurvy.

The cause of scurvy wasn’t discovered until 1932, but folk remedies and herbal cures have been used for thousands of years. Without understanding exactly what caused the disease, however, the cures were often of limited use.

Oddly, most animals can synthesise their own vitamin C—only the higher primates (simians and tarsiers), guinea pigs, bats, and some fish and birds can’t.

(So your dog can never be a ‘scurvy dog’, because dogs don’t get scurvy.)

And on Talk Like a Pirate Day, I say…

Eat your greens you scurvy dog, or I’ll make ya walk the plank!