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!