Project Food Blog #2: The Classics.
“Ready to tackle a classic dish from another culture? Pick an ethnic classic that is outside your comfort zone or are not as familiar with. You should include how you arrived at this decision in your post. Do your research then try to pull off successfully creating this challenge. Try to keep the dish as authentic as the real deal, and document your experience through a compelling post.”
I represent a diverse combination of cultures from around the world. On my dad's side there's Irish, Scottish and possibly a little Native Canadian mixed in there somewhere, but we're not too sure. On my mom's side there's Dutch and Indonesian.
I could have chosen to make any classic dish from any culture, but that wouldn't be as meaningful. Sure it would probably be delicious and I'd learn a lot about it, but I'd prefer to learn a bit about my own culture and, in turn, learn something about myself.
I'm pretty familiar with Scottish, Irish and Dutch food so I opted for something a little outside my comfort zone and also very challenging. Though I am part Indonesian I've never tried any Indonesian desserts like this Kue Lapis Legit (Indonesian) a.k.a. Spekkoek (Dutch) a.k.a. Thousand Layer Cake.
Through my research I found out that this cake was born out of the colonial period in Indonesia when Dutch settlers were melding with the native people. Both cultures influenced each other and out of the diverse sharing of traditions came this cake. Dutch baking methods collided with Indonesian spices.
The symbolism of the layers is poetic. Two cultures, both unique and beautiful, both contributing equally to make something sweet. Everyone has their layers and we would be lucky if they were made of sugar and spice and everything nice.
I like to picture my beautiful Indonesian great great grandmother baking this cake with her loving Dutch husband. It's a sweltering morning on the island of Sumatra and the lazy breeze sends the scent of this new cake whirling through the settlement past banana trees and around mischievous monkeys. She hums a curious tune to herself as she adds the final layer to the cake while he puts another log in the oven.
Creeps and Cake.
Dear Creepy Neighbour,
I saw you creeping last night. What you were really doing at 1 and 2 am in your front yard with a tarp, a halogen lamp and a stack of junk I'll never know.
I know what it looked like you were doing. I half expected you to drag a lifeless body out your front door and start rolling that sucker up.
Which is why I felt it was my civic duty as unofficial head of neighbourhood watch to leer out my upstairs window at you. I may or may not have busted out my telescopic camera lens to leer a little closer. Those things don't work so great at night... or so I hear.
Just a word to the wise, try your very best not to do weird things at all hours of the night. I have a very big imagination and it will, without a doubt, conjure up a much more interesting explanation for your midnight activities than the truth. Folding up tarps and shining lights into people's windows doesn't exactly get you invited to all the cool barbecues.
Speaking of which, do you think you can manage not to shine 500 watts of light willy nilly around the block including into my bedroom windows? Halogen work lamps aren't flashlights. That would really help me sleep at night.
And by the way, it's called a yard not a landfill. You have ten square feet of dirt to look after. A patch of grass or even a small tree is much more aesthetically pleasing than a pile of all manner of junk. Do you think you could, oh I don't know, clean that mess up? You know, as long as that doesn't stimulate your trigger itch. I don't want to wind up snug as a bug in a... tarp.
I'd suggest you channel your creepy energy and redirect it on some cake baking. It's a much more constructive task when compared to your regular activities like scaring the neighbours, glaring at pedestrians, harbouring mean cats, collecting broken down piece of junk cars, or hiding bodies in your freezer.
Thanks a bunch.
Sincerely,
That girl across the street.
PS: You don't get any of my cake!
Turn That Frown Upside Down.
There are some things in the world that are better when turned upside down. It's just a fact.
Frowns for example. You saw that one coming right?
Bats too. When they're upside down they're sleeping instead of flying around in your hair giving you rabies.
Our cat Misty. She loves to lay on her back and look at you funny with her little paws all pulled up and cute. When she's right side up she's kind of a jerk.
A squeeze bottle of honey. Preferably open while upside down over my greedy mouth.
Cake. That's pretty obvious right?
It's peach season. Did you know? Peaches are my favourite fruit. Figures I'd choose a fruit with one of the shortest growing seasons in Canada. I'm sure you can tell I like honey.
I'll stop insulting your intelligence and just get to the point.
It was only a matter of time until I combined two of my very favourite things. Honey and peach. Together at last. And what a lovely cake they made.
Honey for My Honey.
Just bear with me here and allow me to put my serious hat on for a few minutes. If you don't want to read on about a gooey love story and how ridiculously giddy it makes me then I'd suggest you stop now or skip ahead to the cake part. I won't tell. Promise.
A year ago today I had bangs and actually pulled it off nicely. A year ago today I lived three provinces away in a basement apartment where I hid my cat from my landlords. A year ago today I spent more of my free time on the phone than other people spend breathing or blinking. A year ago today I was a bundle of nerves waiting patiently for the love of my life to walk through my door.
We hadn't even met in person and I loved him more than life itself. Naive? Of course. True. Certainly.
Today I've grown out my hair and it doesn't even annoy me. Today I'm sure I have more laugh lines and I don't even care because of how they were gained. Today I woke up next to the man that is my match in every way. Today is our one year anniversary and I couldn't be happier.
Because he holds the truck door for me every time. Because of how safe I feel in his arms. Because of his amazing daughter. Because of how we finish each others sentences. Because of the way he laughs when we do the fist bump explosion. Because of the way his hand fits into mine. I made this Honey Lemon Pound Cake for my Lee, my honey. I love you.
Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice.
The brown sugar is of the dark brown, aka demerara, variety because I've decided it's the best dang sugar on the planet. The spice is cinnamon because, let's face it, it's the rock star of all spices. The everything nice part refers to brown butter because a smidgen of brown butter makes everything nicer.
That's what little girls are supposed to be made of, but instead it's my cake. Let's just be clear that this is 100% cake. No little girls were harmed in the baking of this cake.
Anyhoo...
A little off topic, but did I ever mention how much I hate ribbon roses? Well I do. They're not nice, unlike brown butter. I spent hours of quality time with my piping bag practicing the technique and I only got these eight measly excuses for ribbon roses. I also spent those hours swearing very unlike a little girl. Ok, so they're not half bad, but my perfectionist brain disagrees.
They say practice makes perfect, but what if I don't want to have anything to do with these little monsters anymore? Let's just settle for mediocre ribbon roses shall we? Ok deal.
A Slice of Happiness.
I made a pie. Can you tell?
Did I bake this pie while dancing around the kitchen to Burn the Witch by Queens of the Stone Age? Why yes. How did you know?
Did I bake a pie while sporting an adorable navy blue apron with little red tomato polka dots? Of course! Seriously, where are you hiding?
It may come as a shock to you that this is the very first pie I've ever baked myself. I've aided in the baking of pies, oh yes, but that normally consisted of snacking on sugar and cinnamon coated apples or sitting impatiently in front of the oven. I've also aided in the consumption of said pies. I'm quite experienced in that area of pie expertise.
I've never actually rolled out the dough, filled the shell and covered that sucker up with more dough. I know, it's blasphemous really.
So I've done it. Here's my proof. It's scrumptious.
Mousse and Other Nonesuch Things.
I have a few pet peeves. Ok maybe more than a few, but I won't make you labour through reading all that, so here are just a few:
Dried toothpaste in the sink. A sticky nightmare to clean off and you just know it's been in someone's mouth.
The word flimsy. It sounds too much like my own name. Call me crazy, but I don't like it.
When people mispronounce or misspell words we use everyday like supposebly for supposedly, presentating for presenting and know for no. That's no way to communicate people.
A sink filled with dirty dishes next to an empty dishwasher. No further explanation is necessary.
Soap scum. So getting clean somehow makes the shower dirty. Really? How fair is that?
Bugs. Just get your creepiness out of my house! Nobody likes you!
Fingerprints on my glasses. Call me obsessive compulsive, but I prefer to see out of those things.
When you peel the lid off an open tub of cream cheese and the last person to use it has left the metal seal on it.
That sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you experiment with a completely new recipe for the first time and you're sure something horrible is going to go wrong.
The best part is when that bad feeling is replaced by a good feeling that causes you to pump your fists in the air and jump up and down. Yeah, I love me some good feelings.
The whole afternoon I was worried about how the mousse layer would turn out in my Lemon Blackberry Mousse Sponge Cake. I'd never made a mousse layer in a cake before. It would surely be a catastrophe. I nervously opened the fridge dozens of times to check on it and I fretted over it when I gingerly poked the parchment paper with my finger. I was sure that when I peeled back that parchment paper that all heck would break loose and my mousse would come pouring out like some unstoppable force. Then I'd have to cry in a puddle of my own purple failure.
Luckily that was all in my imagination. I mean, look at it! I don't like to brag, but come on really, It's perfect! You know how much I like to make things pretty and I'm proud to say this is one of the prettiest things I've ever created. Pretty and pretty tasty to boot.
Cookie + Cake = Lee’s Carrot Cake
Don't you just love birthdays? Even someone else's birthday. Actually especially someone else's birthday. I know everyone says this and doesn't really mean it, but truly I love giving presents way more than receiving them. More than that, I love to make someone feel special. I love the thrill of planning little surprises to catch them off guard or keep them guessing. I love to make people smile.
That must be why I love to bake so much. It's got to be one of the best ways to make people instantly happy. How can you not smile when you bite into a freshly baked Lemon Blueberry Streusel Muffin, a chewy Chocolate Chip Cookie or a Hazelnut Brown Butter Cupcake? Ok well maybe you wouldn't smile as you bite into it. That would be messy. But after there would be a definite smile cracking those crumbly lips.
I also love that mumbling cacophony of off beat voices when you get to that certain part the birthday song where everyone says something a little different. Happy birthday dear... It gets me giggling every time.
But I digress.
It was Lee's birthday last Monday and I wanted to make him something he would love. Carrot Cake is his favourite so that was a clear winner, but I was itching to do something a little different, something more. He was telling me recently about birthdays from his childhood and these Jeanne's Bakery cakes from Winnipeg. Apparently they have a Shortbread cookie layer on the bottom so that got me thinking. Carrot Cake with a Snickerdoodle Cookie Crust and Cream Cheese Icing. Yes. That's the ticket. Because my favourite person deserves only the best.
Jonesing for Jones.
Have you ever had a craving for something you just couldn't ignore? A nagging, overwhelming insurmountable need for a specific thing that couldn't be sated any other way than to ravenously devour the thing in question.
For me, recently at least, that thing was Jones Soda. If you've never had this particular brand of soda pop I suggest that you do so. Now. For reals. They have countless flavours made of pure cane sugar to indulge your taste buds and yet, frustratingly enough, they can't be found at most stores. No, the kind folks at Jones Soda Co. make it tricky. Occasionally you can find a flavour or two at your local 7 Eleven or corner store, but usually you have to go to those speciality gourmet candy shops to get the better selection.
I'm not a real soda pop connoisseur, not even a real fan. The fizz gives me hiccups. Rather annoying inconvenient hiccups. But for Jones Soda and their large repertoire of flavours I'll brave the involuntary spasms. My current favourite is good old fashioned Cream Soda. It tastes like cotton candy and that's just fine. The close second is Berry Lemonade.
So why not make a cake out of my favourite soda pop? And not just any soda pop cake, a marbled cake with two of my favourite flavours rolled into one. Just a word of caution. If you don't like cakes that are pretty high up on the sweet spectrum then I would not recommend this. But if on occasion, like me, you have the need to eat sugar by the spoonfuls then, by all means, please make this cake.
Spring Has Sprung, The Grass Has Ris…
...I wonder how this pie is. To answer your question, pretty flipping awesome.
Did you miss me?
It won't happen again. I promise. I've been doing quite a bit of spring cleaning. Doesn't it feel satisfying to clean? No? Just me? You don't get a certain rush out of scrubbing something so shiny you can see your reflection in it? Or mopping the floor so clean you could eat off it? Or maybe vacuuming every square inch of the floor? Or organizing all 76 fridge magnets into uniform size descending lines? Well I do. And seriously, 76. I counted them.
I'm not sure who decided spring was the appropriate season to clean your head off, but it seems to make sense. Maybe it's something about opening up all the windows and pushing back the curtains that makes you see every last speck of dust and disorganization that somehow alluded your discerning eyes all winter. Maybe it's because spring is the season where everything begins again, grows and transforms, so why not mirror that on the inside right?
I have all these gardening plans this summer that I am so excited about. I've begun planting herbs in peat moss pots inside to transplant into my very own soon-to-be-built herb garden. That way I can make fresh pesto with my own basil and cut chives into sour cream like my mom always did. More often than not when I want to make pesto the supermarket is all out of the fresh kind so I actually buy the diced up stuff sold in a tube. I won't complain about the convenience, but I don't mind dicing it myself when I can be sure it's fresh instead of feeling like I'm squeezing toothpaste into my garlic, parmesan and pine nuts.
Enough about me. I know you're really just waiting for me to shut up so you can hear about that amazing Boston Cream Pie. It's my way of saying sorry for the abnormally long blogging intermission. Now back to our regular scheduled programming.
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