Made With Love.
Valentine's Day means either nothing or everything to an individual person. You're either a skeptic or a romantic. More and more the world is being peopled by skeptics. People who don't believe in anything they can't see or touch and make fun of those who dare to.
I was once one of them before I met Lee. I'm not going to tell you that rainbows and butterflies follow us, but we are ridiculously happy. The kind of happy that gives you cavities and your face hurts from smiling too much. He's my match, my better half, my sweetheart.
A note in a lunch bag. A heart shaped box of chocolates. A bouquet of roses. A romantic dinner on a rooftop. A picnic in the sun. A long distance phone call. A marriage in secret. A well composed email. Whatever love means to you it deserves celebration.
I thought I'd give you all a simple yet sweet recipe for your own sweetheart. Just ganache, raspberries and hazelnuts. These Chocolate Razelnut Truffles are decadent, rich and best enjoyed when made with love.
Pretty Pictures.
There are a fair number of people out there that turn their noses up at food blogging. I know! Crazy right? They criticize food photography and food staging for being contrived.
But it is...
I'm not going to show you pictures of what I actually did with this rack of cookies or this plate of cake. That would be weird. Who really wants to see pictures of me stuffing my face messily, repeatedly and, dare I say, uncontrollably?
When you make something yummy your first thought isn't to place it artistically yet casually next to some perfect strawberries or pair it with a jug of milk that you'd never really drink from. And, admit it, some things we make aren't even that pretty.
This is why I spend hours in the kitchen just to bake a simple batch of cookies. 90% of this time is spent making sure my cookies don't look like junk and the other 10% is spent actually baking them.
Food photography can be a tricky business. There are tripods, expensive lenses, reflector panels, all the digital editing and cropping and let's not forget how hard it is to find photo-worthy dishes and utensils.
So yeah, it's contrived. But it's pretty. I'm all about making things pretty. Food bloggers go through a lot of trouble to bring you pictures worthy of mouth watering and stomach grumbling.
These pancakes are pretty. I didn't even need to do much to them. For reals. I just slapped them on a pretty plate, dusted them with powdered sugar, dropped a handful of raspberries on them and slathered them in syrup. Some things are just naturally beautiful.
And after turning off my camera I inhaled them, natural beauty and all. Can you blame me?
Crash.
I'm sick of being sick.
I've been flat on my back eating nothing but handfuls of chicken noodle soup and crackers. Before you start to wonder how exactly you go about clutching a fistful of soup let me distract you with these cookies.
Feel better?
Me too. For now. Otherwise I'd still be asleep and not sharing this recipe with you.
Funny how sometimes you feel worse after starting a course of antibiotics than before. I'd almost rather take my chances with my ear infection than take another one of those giant pills. Almost.
It's the ten day antibiotic crash diet. Emphasis on the word crash.
All the cool kids are doing it. Lose ten pounds in ten days. You'll be half conscious while shuffling around the house like a zombie in wrinkled pjs and sporting unwashed bed head, but hey you'll look fabulous.
Ok so this is getting a little random, a smidgen bitter and my head is starting to feel a bit fuzzy so I'll just shut the heck up and let the cookies speak for themselves.
Cupcake Confessional.
I have a confession to make.
Are you ready?
Like really ready?
Ok, here goes.
I'm 41.
Ok no, not really. You should see your face. I couldn't keep a straight face on that one either.
Let me clarify. According to my Wii I'm 41. My Wii thinks I'm 41. Should this offend me? Because it does. I have been insulted by a tiny white box.
I took the Wii Sports fitness test last night and let's just say the results were less than desirable. Really though, what does the ability to volley a virtual tennis ball into a target have to do with my level of fitness? Or the talent of dodging virtual training balls being lobbed at me randomly? Or being able to curve a virtual bowling ball? I'm quite good at that one by the way. One of those life skills that will certainly come in handy in the future. There will be a bowling ball curving emergency somewhere someday I'm sure of it.
Basically the Wii is an elaborate game system designed entirely to make you look stupid. Yes, the truth is out folks. Let's be honest here, it's not like you were really worried about looking cool while cow racing, swerving around goombas or collecting star bits.
I dare you to try to not wave your arms around like a spazz while boxing and whip someone in the face with the nunchuk cord. Yeah that didn't happen. I dare you not to get the overwhelming urge to whip the remote at the TV when you miss the tennis ball for the umpteenth time. That may or may not have happened. Tell me you never threw a temper tantrum and blamed the game before. Tell me you were never in a bad mood for half the day because you didn't round that corner just right to avoid the Shy Guy. You never slung insults at the screen after falling through the same star shaped hole in the Rocky Road?
No? Just me then? Oh.
Maybe I'm bitter because my Wii called me 41. Maybe I've been eating too many of these Devil's Food Cupcakes. Maybe it's worth it.
Yes. Yes, it definitely is.
Food for Thought.
I take things personally. I try not to, but I can't help it.
If I discover that a person dislikes me I'll wrack my brain for the answer to their derision. I'm not the type of person to hate anyone so it's hard for me to understand why someone would point their hatred at me. This is especially annoying when I've done everything I can to be pleasant to someone. Some people just can't be pleased I guess.
I cry when I burn dinner.
I feel like a failure if I forgot to get something at the grocery store.
I mope around disconsolate and detached when Tastespotting declines my photos.
This might have something to do with being a perfectionist. It makes me my own worst enemy. If I expect perfection in all things then I'm just asking for disappointment. No one and nothing is ever perfect. It's hard to love the flaws. It's hard to turn failure into success.
But I'll try.
For now, here's some pretty darn close to perfect Apple Berry Crisp.
Cake Because I Can.
Generally baking is something people do on occasion. A cake for a birthday party. Hour d'ouvres for a get together. Shortbread for the holidays. Chocolates for Valentine's Day. Rarely do people bake for the fun of it. Instead baking is this stressful thing built around high expectations and consequential disappointments when it crumbles.
Well last weekend I spent hours in the kitchen making a cake. Yes a cake. And here's the best part: there was no occasion. I just woke up that day and said to myself, today's a good day to make a Lemon Raspberry Cake. So I did. And no one complained. Why would anyone complain about cake? It's cake.
I propose we all bake more often. And maybe exercise a little bit more to compensate come think of it. Making delicious food is one of the simplest, most gratifying, tasks that a person can do and it makes everyone around you happy.
So here you are. Lemon Raspberry Cake complete with raspberry jam filling and lemon cream cheese icing.
This recipe was transformed from my Oma's Lemon Loaf recipe into the cake you see before you. My Oma is an amazing cook and baker. She always has the kitchen stocked with chocolate chip cookies among other sweet things. My Opa has at least one of her cookies each day and complains innocently if the supply runs out.
Lemon Loaf is one of my absolute favourites of her many recipes. I love anything with citrus in it as you might have already guessed. I remember when I was a kid she would bake Lemon Loaf and wrap it up in wax paper then keep it in a re-purposed dairy milk bag as she still does today. See in Ontario, milk comes in bags more often than jugs or cartons. Might seem strange but it's worth clearing up in order to understand the whole milk bag thing. A very Grandmotherly thing to do I suppose, save bags and containers to make use of them elsewhere. Anyways that bag of delicious Lemon Loaf would not remain in it's place on the kitchen counter for long. It would disappear slice after yummy slice until we made short work of the dessert.
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