The Lost Smiles Series

Very recently, in a moment of total boredom, whilst I was awaiting the carry-out of my restaurant order, I chanced upon The Lost Smile Series....let me explain!

The Lost part of the above term refers to photographs, notes and books that I (ummm) forgot about. The Smile part refers to the emotion they evoked because I loved them so. In fact, I loved them so much I'd forgotten to catalog their  existence in my memory.Yikes! You see what I mean? Things that I lost that made me smile. And when you have tons of those, it becomes a Series. And NO this has nothing to do with my age (in case you had that fleeting thought, cheeky monkey, you).

Rewinding back to the idle state of affairs in the car outside the restaurant -  I had clicked on the 'View Gallery' option of my mobile and chanced upon a treasure trove of pictures. Silly ones with the girls, me in awe of Dorie Greenspan, Toby and his Papa (AF), food, more food, jeweled headbands and unflattering pictures of people sleeping (this one I particularly laughed at). I couldn't stop smiling as I recalled the wheres-and-whats of that precise moment when the picture was taken.

Here's a few I'd love to share with you.

# 1 A mid-afternoon treat that Cookie and I had dabbled in.

It makes me smile because, one, the tuna tartlettes were delicious and ,two, because Cookie paid me a visit that Christmas. Incidentally, she also ruined one of my favorite movies 'Polar Express' for me..but I'll save that one for later




# 2 : Gigi girl almost, always books early morning flights when she returns from her visit with us. Grudgingly, we drop her to the airport. Half-asleep ofcourse.

# 3: I don't even have to tell you why this one makes me smile. Twenty-something year-olds with the hearts of wee children. Big smile moment! 

Who would have thought that I'd be having "a moment" and smiling ear to ear whilst running an errand.

Life happens when you're waiting for take-out.

P.S. Go on then. Where will you find your lost smiles?

Something for Poppet

Dear Poppet,

How have you been? I have missed you, missed you dearly. I just realized that the last time I wrote about anything was at the end of summer and here we are at the hem of another season and the close of our brief affair with 2012.

In the past few months ("when I was not writing") I travelled some and I baked some more. Although, I must reluctantly admit that every time I return to my kitchen after a period of absence I find myself cooking/baking up a frenzy as if to apologize and make up to the kitchen gods and my beloved pots and pans for deserting them. I'd also be parceling banana bread, puddings and chocolate mousse to friends and others that are like family. You see, its become therapeutic for me, this post-travel baking craze. It's my way of hugging my posse because I missed them during my travels abroad. You may say that it is an odd way to show affection. Sigh! Warm cookies are like warm hugs; something only a fellow foodie would understand.

Anyway, it was during one of those frenetic baking sessions that something new made its way into my list  of favorite things - lemon honey madelines.

I don't know whether its their miniature sea shell shape or the fact that the pairing of treacly honey and tiny shards of lemon zest exude comfort as you sink your teeth into them but let me tell you that they are perfect, warm from the oven, accompanied by a cup of tea and chatter with your "heart and soul" girlfriends.

'Tis not something I would willingly share with a boy - the joyous trinity of a sweet madeline, english tea and good conversation.

And that my dear, is precisely why I'm sharing this with you. Something to remember me by. A madeline from me to you, until next time.

Your Singleton.

When Cookie met Herb

Random thought for you, chickadee: I love chocolate chip cookies.
What's not to adore about it? A good one has the perfect note of crumbliness (not really a dictionary word, I know) and sweetness. But the perfect one is studded with the appropriate dough to chocolate chip ratio.

I adore it so much I'm always racing for one. These days, however we engage in elaborate affairs with "the cookie". We have the gourmet cookies with unique pairings, cookie sandwiches, cookie adorned cakes, and in recent times, cookies on a stick - in short, a smorgasbord of options to choose from. However, my favorite still remains the everyday, homemade, chocolate chip cookie.  Familiar and delightful. A cookie that I carry from my childhood and now into my journey as a grown-up (with mostly adult ways).


During my recent survey of recipes, I came upon a most interesting pairing in the form of a Chocolate chip and Rosemary shortbread. Yes, you heard me! Apparently, an herb and a cookie can hobnob with each other.

I am shocked because, to me, a rosemary is a very grown-up, sturdy and dependable sort of herb. A good companion to stocks and stews. Sort of like your mum's best friend. You can always depend on Aunt Rosemary to make you dinner almost as good as your mum when she's out of town but not someone you would hang out with on your own.


But lo and behold, I am quickly discovering that rosemary can also be a cool, quirky dude who can complement the sweet and simple chick, the cookie. The curious baker in me decided to be amiable and get down to the business of making friends with them as well. Surprise, surprise...  


They go perfectly!

P.S. Although their union is a delightful one, I still believe that while the herbs will come and go, the cookie and I are bound for life.

A Tribute to Summer

I am still on a high from my recent trip to Chicago for a fun-filled, work-free, kid(s) free, boy-free weekend with the ladies. I could set off to regale you with the details but I'm feeling a little less wordy today and yet have so much to share, so here's the abridged, cliff-notes version of the trip: 

Mango taco salad +Anthropologie+Magnolia Cupcakes for afternoon delight+Helmets and Segways+bruised arm+Walgreens hunting+late night heart-to-hearts+blue eyeliner+non-stop fragrance sampling+Sarah's brownies+Powder room @ The Drake+subway mad-dashing+silly giggling+ Walking for three hours for the love of food+slumped out at Macys because of the love of food+ "Almost" celebrity sighting+endless picture-taking+creased paper maps+Buca di Peppo group portrait+many minutes spent in awe of Buca di Peppo group portrait+wildberry preserve+delayed flights+wrong terminals+nonni's biscotti+many,many hugs=Weekend of indulgent eating with the chickadees (Gigi,Cookie and ST). You made me beam! 

On an unrelated topic we're commemorating hot days, abundance of summer fruit, beach fun, cute tees, cold lemonade and sandals, a.k.a "the arrival of the summer" with a luscious and sweet strawberry galette.

The aroma from baskets of ripe, succulent strawberries has rendered this girl a little light-headed and giggly right there in front of all the normal shoppers at the grocery store.                       


I am experiencing a strawberry-smitten summer, y'all. 


And in case you were wondering, there was no pastry meltdown. Second time's a charm it seems. Huzzah (followed by an imaginary cartwheel)!

Life lessons...from the Kitchen

I have been toying with the idea of a homemade pie for weeks now. I have made pies in the past but back then the crust always ended up being a store bought substitute because yours truly is not a planner and the "pie" idea  is always thought of 30 minutes before the dinner party arrives or 40 minutes before I have to skedaddle through the front door.

"This upcoming pie is going to be perfect because it will arise from a well-stocked pantry and a well-thought out recipe", said the singleton. Being as this is a carefully executed pie, I will attempt to replicate the sweet pastry dough from Page 444 of Dorie Greenspan's  "Baking from my home to yours" (on a side-note: she is brilliant and all her recipes are fantastic). This pie crust was going to turn into a galette. For the filling, I have decided its going to be a quince preserve base and canned peaches with a quick custard.Yes, I did say canned peaches.

Now, now don't judge and wrinkle your nose in disdain.

We have all ( yes even celebrity bakers) used canned fruit in our lifetime. It can be traced back to when we were children. Remember the assorted fruit custard dessert your mum used to make for company? Surely you don't think she cut up all that fruit....(if your mum did, then God bless her)

Eggs - check. Powdered sugar - check. Bookmark for recipe (in case the book closes in the middle of beating those eggs) - check. Off we go. 

And there I relearned it. A life lesson.Right there in my kitchen.

The pastry dough was coming along well. Except I forgot the part where I was supposed to chill the pastry dough for 30 minutes before I add my filling. Slowly but surely, my beloved crust was falling apart in my hands and I could feel cold cuts of butter giving up on me and threatening to turn into kitchen disaster # 560 and have me slumped on my kitchen floor, wailing, because I can't even get a rudimentary pie crust to wield to my will. "I will not give up" said the singleton. "Even a trained monkey can do this, it's so simple." The quince preserve used its super-powers to turn from semi-solid into liquid spilling all over my parchment sheet. The peaches? Well don't ask how even canned fruit decided to revolt against me.

The disheveled pie-crust made it into the oven against all odds and there I was feeling less excited about eating this well-thought out pie that I had mulled over for weeks and almost wishing that I had gone to the store instead. 30 long minutes later, it had baked no doubt but was still no closer to looking like a galette. And then to make matters worse (and because I'm human and want to tinker with something that looks bad in the hopes of making it better), I decided to perform an "omelet flip" to level one side of the pie crust that had sort of turned in. Big mistake, chickadee. Staring in my face, was the cousin of something that even the most accepting member of the pie family would disown. I poured in the custard because I had decided that this disaster was going to run its course and I would just write-off this entire afternoon and start thinking about pie in another six months around Thanksgiving.

Another long 30 minutes later,  my "mess" was ready to be rescued from the oven and back to kitchen counter. "I should at least taste it before I toss it". So I retrieved a spoon, hoping for the worst.

SURPRISE - it was lovely. Lacking in aesthetic appeal? Absolutely yes but absolutely delicious. The buttery crust and sweet peaches and comforting splashes of custard. All of it a winner in my book. 

So here it is my friend, the life lesson. No matter what you're going through and how furiously your boat seems to rock, remember that if you hold on and ride out the storm, it will eventually pass. Such is life in the big world. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel and sometimes even a surprise ending. In this case, a delightful spoon-full of it.

Framboise a.k.a Celebrating the French way!

My darlings, something lovely is coming to life in my oven.

I have been peeking at it through the glass door for the last 45 minutes and my patience is wearing thin. Unfortunately the antsy-ness needs to be in check, until the end of the following day when I present it to my friend at his birthday dinner.


Rewinding to my first Friday morning at home this year, spent, away from work, indulging in uninterrupted "me" time streaming epsiodes of Laura Calder's 'French food at home'. She'd puttered around with some rustic dessert crepes and elegant tarts and then the pièce de résistance, Chocolate Framboise. I was hooked!

Up until that first glimpse of the Framboise, an important decision was looming over my head. I had to settle on a cake that would celebrate my friend and yet bring flair to a grown-up's birthday dinner. You see we're all embarking on our fabulous 30 somethings, so the days of store-bought chocolate cake with generic buttercream frosting and cheap champagne just doesn't cut it anymore. We have traded beer for batter. Really good batter.


And now back to the scene with happy Laura, silver fork, decadent cake and a crown of raspberries. See where I'm going with this?

So it was fate that this framboise should make its way into our life in the form of a birthday cake.


"But as impatient as I am, I'm also known for my generosity". In that statement, lies a promise to bring you my impression of the Chocolate Framboise. After all your patience should be rewarded too, right?

P.S: This cake is best made over two days. So whilst you will suffer terrible bouts of impatience, remember, patient people go to heaven. Dessert heaven.

For my friend

Somebody once told me “Follow your dreams”. When I was a child, I could embrace that idea. No questions asked. Leaping into the unknown with abandon. Easy-peasy!

What they didn’t say was that it would cost you something. And a little more each year you grow older. Sometimes a little and sometimes a lot. We’ll lose some friends, memories, cherished things. We’ll lose heart, will and strength. We’ll experience doubt, intense pain and self-pity. We’ll be subjected to the ridicule and insensitivity of mockers and cowards and others who wished they could go on our journey and be as brave as us. We may have to give up our independence for a while and take a humbling stance. We may have to learn to depend on those who are unfamiliar to us. We may have to uproot our lives and move to a strange city, leave our familiar dinner dates with close friends, give up the thrill of worshipping next to an army of believers each Sunday, forego planning meals for Thanksgiving, a birthday and Christmas, and say goodbye to someone you’re used to seeing every day for the last ten years.

 It’s hard, my friend. My bleating heart understands your torment.

However, if you do continue down the path of ‘dream-living’ these are some things to expect. You’ll have new friends, a new jacket and some new memories. You’ll gain five ounces of bravery and live each day with a little less fear of the unexpected. You’ll own new furniture, and decorate a wall with your favorite paintings. Where you were once a  disciple, you will now lead others to proclaim the good news. You will love and cherish those you left behind a little more. You will have stories to encourage and help others who are battling a crisis and life-changing decisions. You’ll tell them “I thought I couldn’t do it but I’m so glad I did”. You’ll laugh, you’ll hug more and you’ll continue to dream some more.

Somebody also told me that our ability to dream is what keeps us young each day. Stay young my friend and follow your dreams.

Chocolate cake for the soul

Saturday morning: It was cold; it was wet and I was just not feeling the weather.

Saturday evening: It was cold; it was wet but I couldn't care less and this is the reason why.

Old-fashioned Chocolate cake, darling - plenty of good for the soul.

Yes I realize 'Christmas is still on' in my house and shame on me for not tending to the post-holiday ritual of taking down the tree. But would you look at the cake - Who can think 'tree' when we have 'cake', right? I knew you'd understand, poppet.

P.S The cake was for a dear friend's birthday. Her delight at the cake was obvious but I also hope that it scored with Rosie, our baby to be.
A few short weeks later: We have now discovered that Rosie is a boy, and according to his Mommy, showing signs of indignation over being referred to as a baby girl. Yes, he can hear us in there!!

Reflections

I realize it is a little too late for retrospections about the year that passed (and my goodness what a year it was) but I wanted to still pay homage to the non-stop year of surprises which was 2011.

To say that it was a year for big leaps was an understatement. Oh I leaped alright! My baby sister got married, we added a brother to our family, old job took a dive for the worst, new job came in at a point of saving grace, return to home country after a decade, new frontiers in faith, a setback in a family member’s health, God’s healing hand on the situation, many gastronomic adventures, birth of friendships, logging the most time spent in a plane in a year, chocolate molten cake and laughs with fellow high-schoolers, a blast from the past, three countries I’d no longer just know from a map, posing for pictures in the city that never sleeps with lovely artist friend, experiencing freedom from some shackles, Christmas and New Years with my family, and lastly the year I baked the most banana bread.

Goodbye 2011.I am steeped in gratitude, Lord.
Welcome 2012. (Or dare I say it...the year I went to Paris!)