Addendum to Pie and Thanksgiving Havoc

I felt I needed to clarify a few misconceptions. The part where I wished I had single-handedly prepared the Thanksgiving feast all by my lonesome...completely conjured up in my head only for a few insane moments. I think at the time my insulin was at a conspiring low level. For a laugh or two, I do amuse myself now and then. The couple of side dishes I did prepare, the baked beans and the apple sweet potatoes casserole alone were enough to put me in holiday frenzy! My apron off to all the Marthas out there who with blood, sweat and tears, hopefully without dripping any of those salty additives on the food, make Thanksgiving meals what they should be! Now back to reality...

When I stop to think about all the blessings in my life, I could go on and on feverishly listing them to infinity. Today though, I would like to share with you, my fellow cake enthusiasts, just a few things I am thankful for that make up the whirlwind of a cake-obsessed, true epitome of a mad hatter, sugar-infused, too-many-times completely misunderstand girl…and all that is implied.

Every day, I am thankful that I have been given one more day to live this sweet as cake, beautiful and chaotic life of mine! I am thankful for flour, butter, baking powder, cocoa, frosting, sprinkles, butter (worth mentioning twice) and all that is chocolate and all that is sweet. I am thankful that my metabolism hadn’t come down to a jolting halt; otherwise, my cake posts would be much more infrequent. I am thankful to know that should I fall while carrying a piece of cake, I have it all conjured up in my head as to how I would pick it and myself up graciously…genius preempt planning, uh huh, I know! I am thankful for all the unsolicited quirks about cake eating I get from the people in my life. Life would be so unconstitutional without the hooey anecdotes that lead up to such comments. I am thankful my OCD is now banking on ordinary depreciation; my obsession with my vacuum has now been replaced with the cyber world of blogging but not to say that I wouldn’t be superbly ecstatic to be the owner of a new Dyson! I am thankful for my good health, despite the excessive sugar hangovers and contrary to my mother’s fear I will soon develop diabetes along with WebMD’s coincidental facts on the possibilities. I am thankful I can be satisfied by my failed attempts at baking and am able to live with it. I wasn't kidding when I said I eat a lot more than I bake! I am thankful for the opportunity to share with my fellow cake enthusiasts all the happiness that is circumferenced by cake and the fact that the insanity of cake somewhat depletes the insanity of ME! I’m thankful that it is NOT compulsory to have the need to argue with myself about what cake I’ll be having today. I am thankful that I can be moody, intractable and monomaniacal at times and that no matter what, cake usually makes it better! Happy Thanksgiving fellow cake enthusiasts…keep eating cake, after all, is there really anything more genial? An abundance of cake blessings to you all on this day and everyday! Go Cake

Pie and Thanksgiving Havoc

So, here I am on the eve of Thanksgiving daydreaming of the wonderful buffet that will stand before me tomorrow and how I secretly in a sort of odd yet canonical way wish I had exhaustedly and unaided prepared the entire feast all by myself. For the past few days, all the talk and complaints overheard from women about the exhausting preparations and all the cooking that has to be done for this yearly havoc of a meal sent me into some sort of dire need to want to be one to also complain and yet enjoy the satisfaction of the fruits of such labor afterward. Sounds a bit unrighteous and chauvinistic perhaps? Maybe, but I want to be Martha for once! I want to stuff the turkey and lace its hind legs to its tail just so. I want my turkey to be indulgingly moist and buttery. I want to own an expensive turkey baster. I want the stuffing to be created from scratch and use real cornbread. I want to know what to do with cranberry sauce. I want it all…but unfortunately, this year, I’m willing to overturn triumphancy! So, instead I will take, as some over achievers might negate, ‘baby steps’. Yes, that will suffice for now. I’ll start with pie. What a novel idea! Since I’m a novice pie maker, I cheated and bought the frozen pie crusts. I found a wonderful recipe for a Caramel-Walnut pie. Fast forward 45 minutes later. My goodness, I completely surpassed my own expectation. I baked a pie! Once the center was ‘set’, I knew my culinary skills were reaping, behind the dark scene, in its own hidden glory. The pie was very tasty and oh so deliciously splendid. I welcomed every bite with an apparent smile. By the way, I’ve read somewhere about some study that revealed that women who ate an abundant amount of pie were happier than those who didn’t similarly indulge. This definitely explains why women on diets don’t smile…ha! So to stay true to such statistics, I decided to bake two pies! With my nominal boost of confidence, I can, today, utter those vainglorious words I’ve been dying to say, “Eat your heart out Martha! Happy, Happy Thanksgiving. Its okay fellow cake enthusiasts, to be gratified by pie instead of cake today. Cake is not on my Thanksgiving menu!

Abuelita Grandiosa

My grandmother...Abuelita’s kitchen, a bright palette of pink with mismatched cupboards filled with trinkets and flowered glassware, was an enchanting place! There was never a moment when one of her meals wasn’t taking shape on the wood burning stove. A pot of beans bubbling away or fresh maize tortillas cooking on a blackened skillet usually with a small iron placed atop. I remember growing up in this house for the first 6 years of my life and recalling that although there was little money, there was always much love in my grandmother’s cooking and that itself was enough to engulf all the riches in the world.  Later, I would return to Mexico every summer to visit my grandmother. Abuelita’s special empanadas filled with pumpkin were a hit on the weekends, during holidays and grand get-togethers. She’d make them in abundance. The entire house was filled with this wonderful, enticing aroma of pumpkin, cinnamon and sweet nutmeg. The preparation of these wonderful "little pies" occupied every space in that kitchen. The chaos was oh so wonderful! The mere extent of my help involved sealing the edges by pressing them down with a fork ever so carefully. Batches and batches went in and out of the oven throughout the entire day. By the evening, there were bowls full of empanadas stacked and covered with her best kitchen towels. We'd have them for dessert that evening and then for breakfast the following morning with café con Leche. Six years ago, my grandmother came to visit and I asked her to show me how to make empanadas. “We have to get up early because it’s quite some work.” She would say. On the morning I thought I would finally master empanada making, sleep deprivation prevailed; This was around the time I had just given birth to Abigail. By the time the baby and I woke up, she had already kneaded the dough, rolled it out, filled the circles with pumpkin and had cookie sheets occupying my double oven. This is one of my fondest memories of her. She’s still alive but not doing very well. I spoke to her last night and I can’t help but feel her celebration of life coming to an end. I cried myself to sleep last night. Today, I’m coping by taking comfort in this special memory. The word Empanada has become a term of endearment. An endearment so strong that when I close my eyes, I take a deep sigh and I can actually smell the enticing aroma of her treats while I see the grandest woman in my life, my grandmother, Abuelita Grandiosa!

Ausgezeichnet! Lost in Translation

P and I visited Swiss Pastry in Fort Worth today. I was craving a California Croissant sandwich with avocado and the likely excuse to covet a slice of Black Forest cake. The American version of the originating German Black Forest cake, served here without the cherries, is by far my ultimate favorite treat. It's simple, but in my humble opinion, oh so special! It’s opulent and divine. Perhaps it's the textural combination of crumbly with smooth and rich. Made up of a light and airy wafer enhanced with two consecutive layers of whipped cream adorned with perfect chocolate shavings, this impressive cake makes me giddy all over. Because it is light and airy in texture, NOT in calories, the cake must be knocked over to it's side in order to get a forkful of all the layers at one time or risk losing the most sensational sensory satisfaction known to woman! The Germans would say “Ausgezeichnet!” The multitude of feelings that I get from this cake alone gets lost in translation!

Easy as Pie

Ever think about the phrases, THAT'S A PIECE OF CAKE and IT’S EASY AS PIE -- "Something that can be done easily and pleasurably.” The thought surely derives from the fact that for most people eating a piece of cake is easy and a pleasure as it should be. I'm still wondering about those phrases however. A piece of cake is easy to cut, but not so easy to make. And what's so easy about pie? Have you ever made one? Did you also make the crust? I know there has to be SOMETHING easy about pie. But if it had a crust, I'm still not sure how it could be easy.I’ve baked a few cakes but have not baked any pies in my time and don’t imagine there is nothing easy about doing so--it's not arduous, but it is certainly not carefree! Particularly if you prepare the crust from scratch as opposed to using something from a box (ugh!) or ready made in the grocery store (double ugh!). Could the expression have an implication such as: "Easy as eating a piece of pie" perhaps? And so, I’ve come to the conclusion that is the synonymous implication indeed. Surely eating a piece of good pie or cake is an easy thing to do. At least it is for me! I eat a lot more than I bake but as soon as I can rummage through my messy collection of magazine recipes (ouch... hate to admit that out loud), I will be posting tried and true fool proof recipes that I know work. Until then, eat more cake!

Oh Birthday Cake!

On a normal day, this might seem strange, but on my birthday,the simple concoction of milk, cream, eggs, sugar and flour brought tears to my eyes. A dear lady at work made a Texas Sheet cake just for me! The thought that someone stayed up the night before whipping the eggs, sifting the flour and watching the chocolate powder and sugar boil carefully on a stove top to pure perfection overwhelms me with AWE. The cake, delicious and moist, would overkill a diabetic...twice! I was so ecstatic. I received nice gifts from the girls, a fun filled night with my family and got to sport my cowgirl boots and pick the country venue of my choice. It's true that sometimes you CAN have your cake and EAT it too and it's my party and I'll pig out if I want to!

Truly, Madly, Deeply!

I recently acquired a new sensation by way of tasting a Cappuccino Pie with chocolate sauce. It had a subtle coffee taste, a little bittersweet, not blowsy but giving me the most delightful chill. It was delicately made up of a centered chocolate ice cream alongside a heap of whipped cream and drizzled atop with a white chocolate sauce. In some moments, there's nothing better than a good friend to share such a joy with but my friend, P, who chooses to remain anonymous fearing she will fall into the untamed women of cake eating category, took one bite and placed it back on my side, all for me?? The two second guilt of eating it all by myself in her presence quickly decipitated. After having devoured the entire pie by myself, I felt godlike, as though I could conquer enemies, lead armies, entice lovers, yadda yadda yadda..... Should you want to feel the aura of what is truly madly, deeply, go to the Yucatan Taco stand for this topped out dessert!

Cake & Divine Intervention!

I have been fixated on cake for quite some time now. I'm not quite sure how I got to this point but I've realized I lost touch with who I thought I was - a somewhat happy, immoderate girl who never denies herself an emotion, an opinion or a candy bar. What I had not realized was how much I thrived on cake until now. "Come have lunch in the cafeteria", my alter ego would whisper. "They are serving cake." Cake for lunch! It shone through my American density like a sunbeam. Sometimes there was an occasion, but sometimes there was not and any kind of cake usually would do, Whipped Walnut, German chocolate, Black Forrest, Carrot cake, Tres Leches... just to name a few of my favorites. Does my slavering obsession with sweets, particularly cake, really belie some flaw, something essentially insatiable about myself? Nah, probably not, I just love CAKE! This newly found divine intervention has helped me in more ways than one...cake makes things better, it makes me happy, it cheers me up when I'm down, it helps soothe sorrow, it helps me concentrate and it's cheaper than therapy!