Hot Polka Dot

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.


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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