And we're back... Brrrrrrrr...

Suddenly, it's February again.

I'm not exactly sure how this happened, but time just keeps marching on. And much faster than I would like, let me tell you.

Christmas was a bit of a blur, truth be told, and now feels like a distant memory. January was spent alongside my husband, frantically poring over end-of-year numbers and worrying about whether our small business will survive the current economic apocalypse.

Stress? No thanks, I just had some.

Sigh.

The next thing I knew, Child Number Two was bouncing at my elbow, telling me that some Dratted Rodent had seen his shadow, and we were in for six more long weeks of winter.

February???!

Apparently so.

It's snowing again up here in the Great White North (what else is new), and a "cold weather warning" is in effect for the next few days. I've hauled in some fire logs to supplement the furnace, which is faithfully chugging away down in the basement, and will be socking hot water bottles into the girlies' beds while they're brushing their teeth tonight.

A hot bath will feel good. And so will my softest, silliest flannelette pajamas, paired with the enormous fluffy slippers that reach right up to my knees.

I'm currently knitting blankets out of a rainbow of cosy, chunky yarn for a reason-- there's nothing like a project that you can wear while you're working on it!

It's true that the simplest things in life can make us remember how truly blessed we are.

It is a cold world we live in these days. And yet, my family and I are warm.

For dinner tonight?

A smooth, silky soup that is filling, nourishing, and makes the whole house smell wonderful. While it's simmering, I'll be whipping up a quick loaf of Irish Soda Bread-- the perfect accompaniment, whether it's slathered with butter, or dipped right in the soup bowl!

Yum.

February, you say?

Bring it on.

Potage au Poireau

(just a high fallootin' way of saying Leek and Potato Soup)

1/4 c butter

4 c sliced leeks (which works out to be about 6 or 8 leeks, approximately)

1 small onion, chopped

5 c chicken stock (low sodium is best, or make your own!)

3 c finely chopped, peeled potatoes (Yukon Golds are lovely)

1/2 c light cream

Salt and Pepper to taste

Trim the leeks, leaving about 2 inches of green. Halve them lengthwise, and rinse them thoroughly under cold running water. They are sandy buggers, so make sure you've washed them well!

In a large heavy saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the leeks and onion; cover and cook until softened and not browned-- about 10 minutes. Stir them often! Add the stock and potatoes, cover and cook until the potatoes are tender-- about 20 minutes.

Transfer the soup to a food processor or blender, and puree it until it is smooth. Return it to the saucepan, and add the cream while warming the mixture through. Season to taste.

Makes about 6-8 servings

(for "normal" people... my family of five just slurp it all up in one sitting!)

One of the "Chocolate Elite"

The great Sandra Boynton, in her book, "Chocolate: The Consuming Passion", defines a member of the "Chocolate Elite" as someone who likes chocolate in all of its infinite variety (using the word "like" as in, "I like to breathe").

Let it be known to all readers of this blog (if it hasn't become wildly obvious already) that I am most definitely counted among the throngs of this illustrious group of people. And, if I keep eating chocolate the way I do, before too long, my steadily-increasing girth might very well qualify me as the equivalent of two, or perhaps even three Elitists.

I love chocolate.

Always have.

Want to know how much of a sickness my obsession is?

I love chocolate so much, I hoard it, and then I hide it from other people. I was stashing chocolate even when I was 21 years old, single, and living alone downtown in a bachelor apartment (it's hard enough to find hiding spots when you're living in a small, walk-in closet, and even harder to hide large boxes from ONESELF).

Last Friday was my 39th birthday (ahem), and it will be no surprise to anyone who knows me, that my very best birthday present... turned out to be the one that has ALWAYS been the very best.

My sainted, long-suffering parents showed up on my doorstep at ten o'clock in the morning, bearing an enormous, chocolate birthday cake.

Not just ANY birthday cake.

MY birthday cake. The cake that my mother has been baking for me for more years than I care to count. It is, to put it mildly, "choc-ful" of the most decadent ingredients you can imagine... and the mere THOUGHT of the taste sensation produced by every enormous mouthful is enough to make me want to lie down on the floor and roll around for awhile.

This cake isn't "easy", and it certainly isn't inexpensive to produce. But, it is quite possibly one of the most important recipes in our family "canon".

Because, this is cake. Truly magnificent cake. "Food Sex", my husband aptly calls it, and there ain't no higher culinary praise from a man than that.

But, most importantly, for me, the preparation of this cake, year after year, is a symbol of how very much my mother loves me.

That... mixed, quite possibly, with a small dose of revenge-- no doubt felt in its fullness, as she closes my front door on three hyper-active, sugar-high grandchildren, at the end of each and every birthday visit.

But you know what?

It's TOTALLY worth it.

Thanks, Mum. Love you, too.

MY Birthday Cake

(Go bake your own!)

For the cake (3 layers):

2 c all purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp baking soda

3/4 tsp double-acting baking powder

1/2 stick unsalted butter, softened

1 tsp salt

2 c sugar

2/3 c water

2 large eggs

4 oz unsweetened chocolate, melted and cooled

1 c sour cream

1 tsp vanilla

For the filling:

2/3 c black cherry preserves

2 tbsp fresh lemon juice

For the chocolate dipped cherries, and icing:

1 8-oz jar of maraschino cherries, WITH stems, drained and rinsed

1/3 c cherry brandy (or plain brandy, actually)

16 oz semisweet chocolate, melted and cooled

1 c of sour cream at room temperature
1/2 tsp vanilla

Okay... are you ready for this??

Cake:

Into a small bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt. In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat together the sugar and the butter, until the mixture is light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each. Then, beat in the chocolate, the sour cream, the vanilla and the water. Add the flour mixture and beat the batter at "high" speed for 3 minutes.

Line the bottoms of 3 buttered 8-inch round cake pans with rounds of waxed paper. Butter the rounds and dust the pans with flour, shaking out the excess. Divide the batter evenly among the pans and bake the layers in the middle of a pre-heated, 350 degree oven, for 35-40 minutes, or until a cake tester comes out clean. Cool the cake in the pans for 10 minutes, then run a knife around the edges, and invert onto wire cooling racks.

Filling:

In a blender or food processor, puree the preserves with the lemon juice, until the filling is smooth. Transfer the filling to a small bowl.

Chocolate Dipped Cherries:

Arrange the cherries in a small bowl, cover them with brandy, and let them macerate in the freezer for 30 minutes. Drain the cherries. (*hic*) Dip them one-at-a-time in the chocolate, letting the excess drip off. Place them on a tray lined with wax paper, and chill them in the fridge until the cake is ready to decorate.

Icing:

In a bowl, beat together the remaining chocolate, the sour cream, a pinch of salt, and the vanilla, until the icing is combined well. The icing should be very glossy. If the sour cream is too cool, the icing will become too firm... if this happens, add 1 or 2 tbsp of hot water.

Assemble the cake, spreading half of the filling between each layer. Spread the outside with chocolate icing, and then arrange the chocolate dipped cherries in a circle on top.

Serves One Highly "Elite" Birthday Girl.

Ice cream.

The girlies bounded out of school for the final time on Thursday afternoon, like two sleek little kittens exploding out of a cat-carrier after a trip to the vet. The delight on their faces was a sight to behold, as was the impossible sweetness of their baby sister, who raced up the pathway to hug them 'round the knees in rapturous greeting. She has been waiting and waiting for her favourite playmates to be "free-d" for the past two long weeks, as her little nursery school wound up at the beginning of June, and she's been stuck at home with the likes of ME ever since.

It has been a long and arduous month, here, save the lovely few days "home" last weekend. There were projects to be completed, oral presentations to be performed, and a stream of year-end testing at school. Piano lessons wound up, and the girlies danced beautifully in the ballet school's annual recital. Yessir, there was more than just a little bit of stress to be felt in this household, but miraculously, everything ended up being just fine. Even the littlest "teddy bear" got up on that great, big stage, and remembered every, single step of her dance. She looked so tiny and perfect in her little pink tutu, with flowers in her hair, even if she DID gaze out at the audience without blinking the entire time, like a newborn fawn caught in the headlights of oncoming traffic.

This week has been filled with good-byes, to wonderful teachers, administrators and friends. Our little town seems to empty-out, as of July 1 every year... People tend to drift off to cottage country, or to visit far-away relatives, and my girlies and I can't help feeling a bit lonesome around here for the first little while, until our days fall into some semblance of a summertime "routine".

That new routine kicked off with one of our favourite treats: home-made chocolate ice cream. Because NOTHING says "summertime" like a great, big bowlful perched on your knees, and slowly freezing the bare skin on your lap where the legs of your shorts don't quite reach.

A few years ago, I splurged and bought a beautiful, stainless-steel Cuisinart ice cream maker. It was a gift for my husband for Father's Day, and although it was undoubtedly a self-serving choice of present for me to give, he would be hard-pressed to deny that his tastebuds have benefited greatly over the past several years (and I have his ever-expanding waistline measurements to prove it. He has mine, too, so I won't share them with you).

The evening before school ended this week, the girlies and I ceremoniously placed the drum of the ice cream maker in the freezer, in preparation for a celebratory batch, which we planned to make the moment we returned home the next day. Since we had already consumed all of the divine "Milk Minties" candies that we had purchased at Chocolate Barr's in Stratford the weekend before, I headed for our local grocer's to purchase our second favourite treat in the whole wide world: Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. In bulk. We chopped them all up into bite-sized chunks, and the few handfuls we managed to resist eating on the spot, we tossed into the ice cream mixture at the very last minute.

Oh. My. Word.

Now.

If anyone has a quick-and-easy remedy for accute brain-freeze, the girlies and I are all ears.

Simply Spectacular Chocolate Ice Cream

1 c unsweetened cocoa powder

2/3 c granulated sugar

1/2 c firmly packed brown sugar

1 1/2 c whole milk

3 1/4 c heavy (whipping) cream

1 tbsp pure vanilla extract

Combine the white and brown sugars, and the cocoa in a medium-sized bowl, and stir to combine. Whisk in the whole milk, until the sugars have dissolved completely, and the cocoa powder is no longer "floating" on top (about 1-2 minutes). Gently stir in the heavy cream, and the vanilla. (I don't like to use an electric mixer for this... if you get too "enthusiastic" and beat heavy cream too hard, it makes the ice cream taste butter-y!!)

Turn on your ice cream machine, and slowly pour the mixture into the freezer-drum... allow it to mix until thickened, about 20-25 minutes. While the mixture is soft and creamy, gently fold in chocolate chips, cookie pieces, brownie bits, or whatever else you fancy, before transferring it to an air-tight container, and placing it in the freezer to firm-up a bit (this takes about an hour or two). Remove the ice cream from the freezer about 15 minutes before serving.

This will make about fourteen 1/2 c servings...

Or, in my case, one serving with fourteen mouthfuls.

Brain freeze! GAAAA!!!!!

Soup to put a "spring" in your step.

I love soup. For me, it's one of those "perfect foods". Easy to make, easy to eat, easy to freeze and store and take out again when you're feeling low, desperate for a little comfort.

It's also a fabulous vehicle for some of the things you like to eat best: and for me, that list would have to include tomatoes and fresh pasta.

We've just gotten over some relatively serious germs in this house (again). And today, I am finally ready to return to the kitchen for my own pleasure. There are few things more challenging than having to cook well planned, balanced meals for people who are NOT feeling greebly, when YOU, the Chef, most certainly ARE. But today, I finally woke up (at the crack of dawn... thank-you, three-year-old) feeling as though I actually WANTED to concoct something yummy to eat... something warm, on this slightly chilly day, something nutritious that would replenish my energy... something GOOD.

And so, soup it is. With fresh pasta. And tomatoes. And spinach, actually, since I'm one of "those people" who doesn't cringe at the thought of a few slightly wilted leaves floating around. I feel a bit like a weakened Popeye, today, and so spinach, it is.

Now, if you've been reading this blog over the past year, you will know that I am a tomato fanatic, and that I am enough of a "purist" that I tend to pontificate about fresh produce-- the more locally grown, the better. But, at this time of year, there are no fresh, locally grown tomatoes to be had, and so for this recipe, I use the canned variety. But believe it or not, canned can be GOOD. I've found a brand that does a diced tomato very nicely-- with a little bit of Italian seasoning-- and the results are pretty good. Still not as good as fresh would be, but remarkably, pretty damn close.

Here is the recipe for an easy soup. Easy, and delicious. Ab-so-lute-ly perfect when eaten while sitting on the patio with your feet up, in the spring sunshine.

Enjoy.

I sure plan to.

Spring Soup

4 or 5 cups of vegetable or chicken broth

1 28 oz can of diced plum tomatoes... juice and all

1 can of black beans, rinsed

1 tsp basil

1/2 tsp thyme

1 1/2 tsp oregano

1 package of fresh pasta-- I have found a lovely whole-wheat medaglioni with chicken and rosemary at our local grocery store... There's another with sun-dried tomatoes and cheese... whatever floats your boat!

A few handfuls of baby spinach, if you like

salt and pepper to taste

Throw everything but the pasta and spinach into a large soup pot on the stove, and heat to the boiling point. Toss in the pasta and cook 'till done, then add the spinach, and allow it to just wilt-up a little bit.

Serve, sprinkled with romano, asiago or parmesan cheese...

(Or, all three, if you're hungry and greedy like me.)

An Easter Sweetie...

We are gearing up for the Big Day, here! The enormous ham is in the fridge, waiting to be studded with cloves, draped with pineapple slices and maple glaze, and put into the oven... There are Yukon Gold potatoes to be "scalloped", and fresh asparagus to be steamed and drizzled with butter...

And nestled into the freezer is our favourite dessert: Iced Lemon Torte. Tomorrow, about a half hour before dinner, I will bring it out, and ready the meringue topping. It is truly a beautiful sight when it is brought out from being under the oven broiler (for just. a. FEW. seconds!!) The white meringue "peaks" are touched with a toasted-brown colour. And the flavour? Fresh and delicious... A wonderful light treat, to cap off a splendid springtime meal. It may look as though you've slaved over it for hours, but actually, it's "easy, peasy, lemon-squeezy!!" as my children say...

Iced Lemon Torte

2 packages of soft lady fingers

5 eggs, separated

3/4 c of freshly squeezed lemon juice

the grated rind of one lemon

1 1/4 c granulated sugar

2 c of whipping cream, whipped

4 tbsp icing sugar

a dash of cream of tartar

Butter a 9 inch spring form pan and line the sides and bottom with split lady fingers.

In a saucepan, beat 5 egg yolks and 2 egg whites until thick. (Reserve the remaining whites for later.) Add the lemon juice, lemon rind and granulated sugar. Cook over a low heat, until the mixture is thickened. Allow to cool completely. Fold in the whipped cream, and pour the mixture into the prepared spring-pan.

Freeze overnight, or for at least six hours, covered with aluminum foil.

About one hour before serving, beat the remaining 3 egg whites, until stiff peaks are formed. Add the icing sugar and cream of tartar, and beat a few seconds more.

Turn on the oven broiler to "low". Spread the egg whites over the frozen torte and place under the broiler until the meringue is lightly browned. WATCH CAREFULLY!! The "browning" occurs very, VERY quickly and suddenly!!

Cool for a few moments, and return to the freezer if you are not going to serve the torte immediately. Or, allow the torte to stand for a few moments more before serving, to allow it to "defrost" a bit more.

Lovely served with a few fresh berries alongside...

Hope the Easter Bunny is good to all, tonight!!

xo CGF

'Twas the day before Valentine's...

Men.

Specifically, men who complain about the stress and pressure and nerves they feel before Valentine's Day... Where to go? What to do? And what to SAY to their beloved, on this most "loving" Day-of-Days???

These men should come over to my house today. Because they ain't felt NO VALENTINE PRESSURE till they've worked with three small children to plan the kind of Valentine's extravaganza we enjoy around here.

Today at the Goddess' house, we will be making and addressing well over 80 little lacy cards... God bless those teachers who stress the importance of including EVERYONE in the valentine-giving, yet at this point, God rot 'em at the same time... Although Child Number One has no problem with addressing all the cards to her friends herself, Number Two and Wee Three will need help with spelling out names and forming the letters on all those tiny, straight lines...

And then there will be cookie-baking and decorating. We always make gingerbread valentine hearts for the class parties. The girlies love to drizzle them with pink-and-white icing, and I've found sugar sprinkles in the shapes of tiny hearts, pairs of kissy lips, and little x-es and o's. You all probably have your favourite gingerbread recipes, but this is mine, and it's big enough to feed a cast-of-thousands!! The dough will keep in the fridge for about 1 week, and also freezes beautifully...

Gingerbread Cookies

5 1/2 c all purpose flour

2 tsp ginger

1 tsp each baking soda, salt, cloves and cinnamon

1 c shortening

1 c granulated sugar

2 eggs

3/4 c fancy molasses

1/2 c blackstrap molasses

Sift and combine the flour, ginger, baking soda, salt, cloves and cinnamon in a large bowl.

In another large bowl, cream together the shortening and sugar, then beat in the eggs and molasses.

Gradually stir in small amounts of the flour mixture, until the dough is well mixed together.

Refrigerate the dough for at least one half hour. Then, turn it out on a floured surface and roll it to a 1/4 inch thickness, before cutting it into shapes.

Bake at 350 degrees for about 7-10 minutes. Watch carefully-- if it bakes for too long, the cookies will be too crisp!! I usually take them out just before the edges start to brown, and let them cool on the baking sheets, before transferring them to a wire rack.

For our at-home celebration, however, we make a beautiful, dark, spicy gingerbread cake. It's a recipe that came to me from my grandmother, and the rich, treacle-y aroma that fills the house while it bakes makes us all feel festive (and ravenous)...

Gingerbread Cake

Sift together in a large bowl:

2 c all purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 c granulated sugar
1 tsp ginger
1 tsp cinnamon

Add to it:

1/2 c shortening
3/4 c molasses
1 egg

Beat with the electric mixer for two minutes at medium speed, or 300 strokes by hand.

Then, add 1 c boiling water, and beat for an additional two minutes. Turn the batter into a greased, 8-inch square cake pan.

Bake at 350 degrees for 50-55 minutes, or until the cake springs back when lightly touched.

Whew...

Like most women, I have always loved Valentine's Day. I love it even MORE, now that I have children of my own to enjoy it with.

That said... If my dear husband is reading:

This year, if you will come home and CLEAN UP THE UNHOLY MESS IN THE KITCHEN for me tonight, you are officially "off-the-hook" tomorrow!!

(But come to think of it, going shopping would probably be much, much easier... Rats...)

What am I doing New Year's Eve?

We are notoriously "boring" at this house, when it comes to New Year's Eve. Perhaps it is all the tremendous excess that we have indulged ourselves in over Christmas... maybe it's the downright fatigue, after having just "closed the books" on our business year... maybe it's simply the fact that we are parents of small children...

Maybe it is ALL of the above that results in our annual tradition of "staying in" on December 31st.

But, truth be told, it's not so bad, actually. We put a movie in the dvd player, stoke up the logs in the fireplace, snuggle under fuzzy blankets... and ring in the New Year by raising a few glasses of Hot Buttered Rum.

Hot Buttered Rum is one of my specialties. It is said to be the drink that "makes you see double, but feel single"... yet another reason to stay home-- it keeps us out of trouble! It is the ultimate treat-- warm and calorific, and capable of melting all of your troubles (not to mention your skeletal structure) away.

I make my Hot Buttered Rum in the crock pot, and simmer it all day long on the "low" setting. The wonderful aroma is a treat for the senses, and makes us feel festive-- even though, truth be told, The Husband and I wind up the evening by pushing the clock hands forward, then tucking ourselves into bed WELL before midnight REALLY arrives...

We're party poopers, no doubt about it. But, after a few glasses of this heavenly stuff, who cares??!

Colonial Hot Buttered Rum

2 cups firmly packed brown sugar

1/2 cup butter

1 pinch salt

3 sticks cinnamon

6 whole cloves

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

2 cups rum

Whipping cream

a tsp or two of icing sugar

a slurp of good vanilla

ground nutmeg -- for topping

Pour 2 quarts hot water into the crock pot. Add the brown sugar, butter, salt, cinnamon, cloves and 1/2 tsp of nutmeg. Stir well. Cover the crock pot and simmer on LOW for about 5 hours.

Just before serving, add the rum; stir to blend.

Whip the cream, adding the icing sugar and vanilla when it begins to stand up in small "peaks", then beat a few seconds more.

Serve the Hot Buttered Rum with a big scoop of whipped cream plopped on top. Dust with a sprinkling of ground nutmeg.

Relax. Enjoy.

Happy New Year!!

The new compliment...

Well, we've had our first icy winter blast.

This morning, the girlies and I burst out of the back door of our house, bundled up to within an inch of our lives, backpacks flapping behind us, only to find that the Loser Cruiser was solidly frozen to the ground in the middle of our driveway.

Not. One. Door. Would. Open.

And, we were running late.

Ab-so-lute-ly Typical.

I had MEANT to tidy up my space in the garage and park the car properly yesterday afternoon, when I first got "wind" that a storm was imminent... But, I was working all morning, and then cooking all afternoon... and, quite honestly, I forgot all about it. Our autumn has been so beautiful, and the warm-ish (wet) weather has lasted for such an unusually elongated period of time, I think that I was actually subconsciously in DENIAL that winter would ever actually get here.

Rats.

Of course, that's not actually one of the words that crossed my lips this morning, as I was frantically hacking away at the thick layer of ice on my windshield, while the children did their "Ferris Bueller Hopeful Dance" on the freshly fallen snow, beside me. The words I used (under my breath, of COURSE) were far more colourful and blasphemous. Hey, the perk of having specialized in English Literature is that one becomes familiar with the fruitier Elizabethan curses. And what's the point of spending all that time and money on fancy-schmantzy degrees if one isn't allowed to dust them off and USE THEM every once in awhile?

Right?!

Anyway, there I was, hacking and cursing fluently, determined to get my little girls through the door of the school before the bell rang to dismiss them at 3.30...

But as blood-boilingly frustrated as I felt at the time, I just couldn't bring myself to regret having "frittered away" my afternoon in the kitchen. Because last night at dinnertime, every single member of the family sat down together at my table, and extolled the virtues of the meal that I had painstakingly prepared for them.

My husband even invented a new compliment. He took an enormous mouthful, closed his eyes and chewed for a moment, then gazed blissfully in my direction and said:

"Oh, my God. You should BLOG this one."

So, here it is, dear readers. The perfect meal. At least, for my family. It is relatively quick to prepare, and I can guarantee you, there will be NO leftovers! Most importantly, it will bring all the members of your family together at the table, eating the SAME repast at the SAME time. It is easy for little people to handle and feed to themselves, which will save endless time and energy. It will give you all plenty of time to chat, share details about your daily activities, and enjoy each other's company. Isn't that REALLY what good food is all about? In my opinion, good food brings us all together... a shared meal feeds the spirit, as well as the stomach.

Sesame Chicken Strips with Garlic Mayonnaise

1/2 c mayonnaise

1 clove garlic, very finely chopped

1 tbsp fresh lemon juice

1/2 tsp dried mustard (I like Keene's, and tend to add a little more than this for extra "zing")

Scant 1/2 c all purpose flour

Scant 1/2 c sesame seeds

1/2 tsp cayenne

1 extra large egg

2 tbsp milk

4 or 5 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves, cut crosswise (against the "grain"-- it holds a shape better this way)

3/4 c vegetable oil (I actually use canola)

Salt to taste

Combine the mayonnaise, garlic, lemon juice and mustard in a small serving bowl. Cover, and place in the fridge until serving time (this also stops me from eating it by the spoonful, before the meal has even STARTED).

Combine flour, sesame seeds and cayenne on a large piece of wax paper.

Whisk egg and milk in a small, wide bowl.

One at a time, dip the chicken strips into the egg mixture, allowing the excess to drain off, then coat evenly with the seasoned flour-and-sesame-seed mixture.

Heat the oil in a large, non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. Fry strips, in batches if necessary, for about 3-5 minutes, or until golden brown and cooked through. Remove the cooked chicken to a paper towel-lined plate to drain, and sprinkle them with a little salt. Keep them in a slightly-warm oven until ready to serve.

I serve the chicken with the dipping sauce, alongside whipped potatoes (btw, the key to beautifully whipped potatoes is to add plenty of piping hot milk and butter whilst beating the crap out of them until not. one. single. lump. remains) and a vegetable (my kids love steamed broccoli with shredded old cheddar cheese melted on top).

And there you have it. The ultimate family meal. Made perfect by the people with whom you share it.

It's blog-worthy. Trust me.

Why Santa Claus Doesn't Drink.

From this morning's newspaper:

Oktoberfest Reveller Stuck in Chimney for 12 Hours

Berlin-- A German man who had been drinking heavily at Munich's Oktoberfest beer festival got stuck in a chimney for 12 hours while trying to climb into a friend's apartment, police said.

After finding his friend was not at home, the 27-year-old climbed onto the roof of a neighbouring building at about 2am last Thursday and headed for what he thought was a gap in the wall between the two houses. He found himself sliding almost 30 meters head first into a chimney, a spokesman for Munich police said. An 82-year-old janitor from the hotel next door eventually heard the man's calls for help and he was rescued at around 2pm by fire brigade officers who knocked a hole into the side of the chimney to liberate him, the spokesman said. He had managed to turn around and had removed his clothes to help him squeeze back up.

"Miraculously, he was only slightly injured in the fall, sustaining just grazes and bruising," police said. The man was taken by helicopter to hospital.

Oh, man. (**wipes tears from eyes**) I would have bought a ticket to see THAT rescue...

Cruel of me to laugh, I know... but the poor guy wasn't actually very badly HURT... I grew up a little too close to Kitchener, Ontario, which is the Oktoberfest Capital of Canada. I am all-too-familiar with the results of a little too much autumnal revelry!

Kitchener's Oktoberfest celebrations were the inspiration for the following magnificent dish, which is another gem from my mother's kitchen. It is hearty and warm and filling, and just right to take the edge off your hunger (or a hangover) on a chilly October evening!

Kitchener Special

3/4 lb large farmer sausages
4 oz wide egg noodles
1/2 c chopped onion
1/2 c chopped celery
1/2 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper
1 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp dry mustard (My favourite is "Keene's")
1/2 tsp white sugar
A 20-oz can of whole tomatoes
1/2 c water
1/2 c grated cheese

Cut up the sausage into 1-inch lengths. Fry slowly in a deep-dish skillet over medium heat, until nicely browned. Drain off all fat in the pan, then add the uncooked noodles, onion and celery. Stir everything up together in the skillet, and then sprinkle the sugar and other spices over the top.

In a bowl, combine the tomatoes (with the juices), water and cheese. Pour this over the sausage and noodles in the skillet, then cover and simmer over low heat for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add a little more water to the pan, if you think it is necessary during the cooking.

This is lovely with a frosty glass of good, strong German beer...

However...

If you've just been freed, stark-naked and acutely hung-over, after spending 12 hours stuck in a chimney, you might want to stick to iced water.

Bunny Muffins

It's a beautiful, sunshine-y Sunday morning, and my kids are already dressed and out helping their father rake up leaves in our back garden. And you know what I mean by "helping", don't you... It means that my husband spends about an hour meticulously raking up a big flurry of leaves. And, as soon as the pile is large enough, and he goes off in search of yet ANOTHER brown paper yard-waste bag... the girlies come whipping out from around the corner of the house, where they've been hiding. Quick as lightning, and accompanied by three piercing shrieks of "COWABUNGGGAAAAA!!" ... Well, let's just say the leaf pile is rendered a Pile-No-More.

Leaf-raking in my garden is a seemingly endless project every autumn. It's right about this time, each year, that The Husband comes storming into the house, and announces that I have OFFICIALLY PLANTED THE LAST TREE ON OUR PROPERTY. ("Got that??!! NO. MORE. TREES. Enough shade, already!! Please??!")

I confess. I'm a sucker when it comes to beautiful trees. I'm a dryad in disguise. The trouble is, I'm a dryad with allergies and a nasty case of asthma. So, when it comes time to rake all the leaves those trees drop in the autumn, I'M the one who has to sit inside. Or, should I say, GETS to sit inside. And no "leaf-blowing" apparatuses on my property. Not EVER. Those things are just one great big fatal asthma attack waiting to happen, and I won't even go INTO my tirade about the excessive racket they produce. Noise AND air pollution, all in one little hand-held machine. Let's just say that in my humble, slightly wheezy opinion, there's nothing like the scriiiitttch-scriiittch sound a rake makes when tackling a lawn-ful of leaves. ESPECIALLY if I'm not the one getting blisters on the other end of the rake.

But I digress.

The point I'm trying to make is, I'M SITTING INSIDE on a beautiful morning.

And what better way to pass the time than to make a great big pan of really delicious muffins. Muffins that are chock-full of nutrition, and will fill my kids up after a good, long stint of decimating leaf piles out in the fresh air.

This is a recipe that my kids call "Bunny Muffins". And before anyone gets all snaky on me (yes, I'm talking to YOU Travellor, wherever you are today, AND YOU, Shawn-- I don't want any disappointed comments from EITHER OF YOU), let me make one thing clear:

THE INGREDIENT LIST DOES NOT INCLUDE A DEAD RABBIT.

Just carrots. LOTS of carrots. A good-for-you vegetable that is usually rawther difficult to get into my children on a regular basis... but in this disguise, they wind up eating plenty, without any fuss!!

Bunny Muffins

In a medium-sized bowl, blend together:

2 c all-purpose flour

2/3 c brown sugar

1/3 c white sugar

2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp nutmeg

In a separate bowl, combine:

1/2 c melted butter (you can also use Becel's olive oil margarine as an alternative)

2 eggs, beaten

1/4 c milk

1 c shredded carrots

1/2 c raisins

1/2 c chopped pecans (or walnuts... but pecans are my favourites)

Combine the "wet" ingredients with the "dry", and stir until moistened. Spoon into muffin cups, and bake at 350 degrees for about 20 minutes.

This should make about a dozen large muffins.

Your family will thank you... and so will Peter Cottontail.

My Mother's Pastry, and other legends...

I pride myself on being a fairly good cook.

I love food. I enjoy entertaining, and feeding people. Perfectly prepared food has incredible power: it excites the senses and brings people together. It can comfort and soothe the troubled soul. It nourishes on many, many levels.

I am always interested in combining different ingredients to create new variations on recipes, and creating different taste sensations. But, I have also discovered that there are some recipes that just can't be improved upon, because they have already reached their ultimately perfect potential. And the majority of those recipes come from my mother's kitchen.

My mother is, bar none, the finest cook that our family has ever produced. She can do it all, people. She can perfectly scramble an egg into a light, fluffy, yet slightly creamy consistency (don't ask me how she does it, I've been watching her technique for YEARS, and still can't get it exactly right). She can coax the most beautiful, pneumatic cheese souffles to arise out of a casserole dish, and serve it to a brunch crowd before it's had the slightest chance to deflate. She can create the most enormous, crusty loaves of bread, and the aroma produced while they bake has been known to rouse small children from their sleep (the dough takes half the day to knead and rise, and so batches of bread at my mother's house bake far into the night). And every year, she concocts the most sinfully decadent multi-layered chocolate cake for my birthday. It is made with pounds and pounds of solid chocolate and a vat of sour cream, and is so rich and delicious that the mere THOUGHT of it makes me want to lie down on the floor and roll around for awhile.

And then there's her pastry.

My mother claims that her pastry recipe originates from the back of a Crisco box, but none of us actually believe her.

WE believe that the Food Gods must have whispered it into her ear one night while she was sleeping. Then, they gifted her hands with magical powers to create no-fail perfection whenever the impulse to bake a pie strikes her.

Well, okay, maybe that's taking it a BIT too far.

But suffice it to say this:

A few years ago, my father arrived to stay at our house for a weekend. He was in need of a little company while my mother was away on one of her "Crumbly Tours". Just so you know, a "Crumbly Tour" doesn't actually have anything to do with pastry. Or food of any sort, for that matter. A "Crumbly Tour" is what we used to call the little holidays that my mother would take a couple of times every year, to visit all of the very elderly relatives in our family. She would get on a plane and fly out West, and then dot back across the country, and stop in to spend a couple of days with each aged "Crumbly", until she finally reached home again.

ANYWAY.

My mother was away, and my father packed up and came to stay with my crazy brood for a weekend while she was gone.

And, as I do for all people who come to stay at my house, I cooked for him. In fact, I made a special point of cooking recipes of my mother's that I happened to know he particularly enjoyed.

After the Saturday evening meal, my father sat contentedly at my table, enjoying his coffee, with a small, satisfied smile on his face.

"That was very nice. Thank-you," he said, as he pushed back his chair and began clearing the table for me.

"But I must ask you..." he continued, as he ran hot water into the sink and added soap. "Have you learned to make your mother's pastry??"

Pastry, according to my father, is my mother's crowning achievement. She is, and always has been, the perfect woman, wife, and mother to his children. But the fact that she is capable of making pastry that renders him almost incapable of coherent speech is clearly the BONUS in his marriage that he never suspected he'd be lucky enough to possess.

This pastry recipe is very, very simple. Deceivingly so, in fact. Because I will write it down, just as she did for me, using HER words... But it will take you time and practise to perfect it. You will learn that this pastry MUST be made with a light, cool hand. I'm not kidding about that: your hands actually MUST be cool. If your kitchen is warm, and your body temperature is too high, then it is important that you don't actually touch the mixture with your hands at all. Go out and purchase a pastry cutter-- one of those little U-shaped wire things that mashes shortening into flour, without allowing your skin to come in contact with the ingredients. In the wintertime, I always prepare pastry on the counter space that is directly under an open kitchen window. It sounds goofy, and more often than not I freeze my butt off, but it is worth it. It makes THAT MUCH of a difference. Temperature and over-handling is what causes the consistency of pastry to become "tough".

The recipe I am going to give you is for a double-crust pie, and in this case, an apple pie. But, if you are making a single-crust pie, like pumpkin, or a quiche, or simply covering a pot-pie, you can divide the amount in half, or make two single-crusts and then freeze one (either roll it out flat on parchment paper, or form it into a pie plate and freeze the whole shebang).

It's officially autumn, everyone. It's Time for Pie!

Canadian Apple Pie

Pastry:

2 c white flour

1 c Crisco shortening (NOT lard, or anything else. CRISCO.)

1 tsp salt

4 tbsp ice-cold water

Mix the flour, salt and Crisco with the fingers (or a pastry cutter) until it is the size of small peas. Add the cold water, and knead lightly.

Divide the dough (1/3 and 2/3 if you're making a double-crust, OR 1/2 and 1/2 if you're making two singles).

Roll out the bottom crust, and place it in a 9-inch pie plate, crimping the edges.

(Okay, I have to interject again, here, because I have discovered the answer to rolling out the pastry without touching it too much. Take a very large piece of parchment paper, and tape it to your countertop with scotch tape. Then dust it with a little bit of flour, and roll your pastry out on top of it. When you are ready to transfer the pastry to the pie plate, centre the pie plate upside-down on top of the rolled-out pastry. Then un-tape the parchment paper from the counter, lift everything up and quickly flip over the plate, pastry and paper, so that the pastry is on top of the plate. Peel off the parchment paper, and press the pastry into the pie plate. Voila!!! You might have to trim the excess pastry from the sides of the pie plate before you can crimp it with your fingers... Just add the extra to the other lump of pastry before you roll it out.)

Filling:

Peel and cut up enough apples to fill the pie shell. (My mother always uses Macs, but I have used Courtlands and Galas, with spectacular results. Make sure that your slices aren't TOO THIN, or the filling will be mushy. You want a little bit of texture in there. And pile the slices up a bit-- everything flattens out during the cooking process, and you want a bit of height.)

Pour 3/4 c of sugar over the apples, then dot the top with small pieces of butter. (That's all she wrote, folks. Just apples, sugar and butter. No messing around with spices to take away from the perfect flavour of the apples.)

Roll out the top piece of pastry, and place it on top of the apples. (My mother carefully shapes this piece in a circle, and then "floats" it on the top of the apples. She doesn't crimp the pastry top into the pastry bottom, which allows steam to escape from the pie better while it bakes. Do cut a few little slashes into the top-crust to allow for steam to escape the centre of the pie, as well)

Bake at 425 degrees for 10 minutes, and then lower the temperature of the oven to 350 degrees, and bake for another 40-50 minutes.

And now, I'm going to give you the ULTIMATE secret to serving a perfect Canadian apple pie... Are you ready for this? Pay attention:

This is a wheel of Aged Cheddar Cheese. And THIS, people, is the only food substance that should accompany a perfect slice of Canadian Apple Pie on a plate. Not ice cream (and I know, I know... I hear all you "a la mode" lovers out there... CHEESE IS BETTER. You'll just have to trust me on this one). It's even better than a big slurp of warm custard drizzled on top. And THAT'S saying something, considering I come from a clan that swills custard like drunken savages.

Apple pie with a great big wedge of sharp cheddar cheese... Now, THAT'S what autumn is all about, people.

Thanks, Mum.

Cooking for comfort...

Ever since we bought and brought home that enormous bunch of gladiolas from the Stratford Farmer's Market last weekend, I have been gazing at it and thinking about my little Great-Auntie. Or, should I say, my Mighty Great-Auntie.

She was a formidable, if very tiny woman, and lived an extraordinary, long life. She was born on our family farm, and died on the farm she acquired by marriage, which was literally "just down the road" from her birthplace. In an age when farm girls weren't expected to grow up and accomplish more than making a suitable marriage and raising a family, my Auntie set off right after completing grade-school to train as a registered nurse. In those days, nursing was taught in hospitals, and she was accepted to train at one of the best teaching hospitals in the country. It was there that she met a woman who became her best friend, and who also turned out to be my maternal grandmother. We will all be forever grateful to Auntie, as she "chose" my grandmother from their graduating class (Grandma having won the Gold Medal for excellence in her field), and together they set up the area's first tiny little "cottage-hospital" in Auntie's home-town, along with a female-physician (another great rarity of the time). They made an incredible team.

On the day that my grandmother arrived to begin her new nursing job, Auntie sent her younger brother to meet the woman who would eventually become his wife, at the local train station. When the striking young Scottish girl stepped off the train, my grandfather suffered an attack of acute shyness, and apparently hid behind the nearest lamp post... They eventually found one another, however, in more ways than one, and famously (in our family lore, anyway) eloped on April Fool's Day.

My grandparents raised a rollicking brood of four children. It turned out that my little Auntie, however, was not able to have a family. Instead of feeling downhearted and bitter about the cards life had dealt her and her husband, Auntie instead chose to "adopt" her nieces and nephew as her "nearly-own-children". She hosted them all for long visits at her farm, and loved and cared for them all just as much as she would have, had they been borne of her. She had THAT big of a heart.

I think that was part of what made her such an extraordinary nurse, as well. She knew instinctively what would make people feel better... and I'm talking about remedies that went far beyond the medicinal. She knew how important it was to care for the WHOLE person. For example, she would gently wash and brush peoples' hair, or shape and buff their fingernails till they shone. She knew just how to talk to people and befriend them, and could make them forget that she was "nursing" them. More than once, when she was quite elderly and she and I were sitting next to one another having a chat, I would suddenly discover that my wrist was in her hand, and she was sub-consciously taking my pulse. Caring for others was so completely ingrained in her... Even during her final years, when she was hospitalized following some surgery, the young nurses on duty would remark in amazement that Auntie would "make her rounds" of the patients on her floor in the evenings (most of them were people she knew from the community). She would wish each one a good-night, and make sure they all had enough warm blankets.

She was a warm, loving person. I will never forget her.

Today, Child Number Three and I have been baking. It came to me last night that if we baked a special treat TOGETHER today, we could turn it into a gift for the teachers at the nursery school, for when she returns tomorrow. Hopefully, this scheme will help Wee Three feel happy about going back, and proud to be giving a gift she made "herself". As an occasional helper at the school, I know just how hard those wonderful teachers work every day to create a stimulating and nurturing environment for all their little pupils... I'm certain that some of these oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookies will give them the nourishment, not to mention the energy-boost they need to get through the last day of the week!!

This is a recipe from my Great Auntie's collection. She taught it to my mother, who taught it to me. They are so delicious, you can just FEEL her love and comfort when you eat them!!

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 c of butter or margarine (**I use Becel's olive oil margarine. It's healthy, and bakes beautifully)
1 c of brown sugar
2 c of oatmeal (**be sure to use "quick oats", and not "instant")
1 c of flour
a pinch of salt
a slurp of vanilla
1 tsp of baking soda, dissolved in 1 tbsp of hot water
As many chocolate chips as you like

Cream together all the ingredients, mixing well. Spoon up the batter 1 tablespoon at a time, and roll into little balls. Place on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper.

** Now, here is the key to making them crunchy!**

Dip a fork into a little, shallow dish of milk, to coat the tines. then press each cookie dough ball down a little bit. Re-dip the fork in the milk before you press down each cookie dough ball.

Bake for about 7-9 minutes in a 350 degree oven. Watch them carefully, because they burn easily!

Cool for a few minutes on the cookie sheet, then remove to a wire rack to cool completely.

YUMMY with a big, BIG glass of milk...

Luciano, mi mancherai...

"One of the very nicest things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating."

~Luciano Pavarotti

The glorious sound of Luciano Pavarotti's voice is the music of my childhood.

Years ago, my parents, who are incredibly knowledgeable opera affectionados (or fanatics, as I prefer to call them), were two of Mr. Pavarotti's most enthusiastic fans. They would play his recordings relentlessly... mainly at dinnertime, whilst my mother was preparing our evening meal. And, yes, when I say "recordings", I mean RECORDS... Remember those big, round, black things that crackled a little??! Even with the crackles, his voice was... perfection. They didn't call him "King of the High C's" for nothing, and even my young, un-trained ear could plainly recognize his greatness.

To this day, I enjoy indulging myself in the sound Pavarotti's incomparable voice. My cd library is crammed with his albums. To celebrate the Italian victory at the last World Cup, the first thing I did was jump up of the couch, shrieking with delight, and BLASTED Pavarotti singing "Nessun Dorma". Victory!!

Then, I cooked my family an enormous vat of pasta, and set the table with red, white and green candles.

And I'm not even Italian.

Luciano Pavarotti was a passionate man, to put it mildly. One of the things that he was MOST passionate about, besides music, was food. His long-time manager, Herbert Breslin, wrote:

"Luciano thinks about food all the time. It is not just that he likes to eat; he loves to smell food, to touch food, to prepare food, to think about food, to talk about food. When he comes into a room, he begins sniffing…and his first question is: 'What smells so good?' "

And so, in honour of The Maestro, whose music has brought me such pleasure during my lifetime, and moved me to such levels of emotion, I humbly offer one of my favourite pasta recipes. It is the dish we feasted on to celebrate the Italian Victory. I hope he would have approved, because it smells as good as it tastes:

Pasta with Herbs, Lemon, and Shrimp Sauce

3/4 lb spaghetti or linguini, cooked al dente

1/2 c butter (4 oz or 1 stick)

Grated zest of 1 large lemon

6 large garlic cloves, chopped

1/2 tsp hot red pepper flakes

2 tsp dried basil

2 tsp dried oregano

1 lb medium shrimp, shelled and de-veined

1/2 c finely chopped fresh parsley

2 whole green onions, finely chopped

Salt

Lots of freshly ground black pepper

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Melt butter in a large, heavy skillet. Add the lemon zest, garlic, red pepper flakes, basil and oregano, and cook 2 minutes. Add shrimp and saute until opaque, about 4 minutes. Add parsley, green onions, salt and pepper, and cook 1 minute. Stir in lemon juice and cook another minute, then toss with hot pasta and Parmesan cheese.

Serve at once, with extra Parmesan, and don't forget to uncork a beautiful bottle of Italian white wine...

Buon appetito!

A summery spaghetti sauce...

It's Tomato Season, everybody!! Alé!!

I love tomatoes. Always have. When I was a child, I used to sneak out to the tomato vines in my mother's vegetable patch, swipe a few, and eat them like apples, hiding under the long branches of the big fir tree at the bottom of the garden.

When I was expecting my first child, it was tomatoes that I craved... day and night. During the secretive months of my first trimester, I worried that visitors to my house would be "on to me" and my delicate condition as soon as they saw the contents of my refrigerator. Beef steak tomatoes, bags of hot house tomatoes, little plastic boxes of sweet grape tomatoes, and cans and cans of tomato juice... It was all I ingested for three months. Until the heartburn set in, that is. And then I just added a chaser of Tums, because the craving didn't care that my esophageal lining was rapidly eroding...

Summertime is the perfect time to indulge in my passion for tomatoes, and this week, I bought my first enormous basket from the farm. People, the beautifully plump, red fruit was still warm from the sun.

I also bought several bunches of fresh herbs (my own garden's supply having been depleted by the intense heat and drought) and some huge cloves of garlic.

And this is what I concocted for dinner last night... If you've got air conditioning in your house and don't mind turning on the oven at 425 degrees for an hour, it's WELL worth it!

Spaghetti with Baked Summer Tomatoes

12 medium-to-large firm, ripe tomatoes

1/2 tsp salt

Freshly ground pepper to taste

1/2 c chopped fresh parsley

2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

3-6 garlic cloves, finely minced

1 1/2 pounds spaghetti

1 tbsp unsalted butter

1/2 c chopped fresh basil

1/2 c grated Asiago cheese

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Spray a large, shallow casserole with olive oil. Halve the tomatoes width-wise and place them cut-side up in the pan. Sprinkle with the salt and pepper.

Combine 1/3 c of the parsley with the oil and garlic in a small bowl; spread over the tops of the tomatoes. Bake until the tomatoes are lightly browned, about one hour. If the tomato skins are a bit tough, remove them from about 12 of the tomato halves with your fingers as soon as they are cool enough to handle... Be careful not to burn yourself! They should slip off fairly easily.

Cook the spaghetti according to the package directions, then drain it just until a small amount of the cooking water is left in the pot. This will keep it warm for a few minutes, and can be drained off as soon as you are ready to combine the pasta with the sauce.

In a small skillet, melt the butter over medium heat, stirring gently until it begins to turn golden brown and fragrant, about one minute. Remove from the heat, stir it to cool slightly, and then pour it into a large, warm serving bowl. Add the 12 skinned baked tomato halves, the basil and the remaining parsley, and mash it together gently with a fork. Drain the spaghetti, and add it and the Asiago cheese to the serving bowl with the mashed tomatoes. Toss it a little bit to combine the ingredients. Top with the remaining tomato halves, and drizzle with the pan juices.

This can be served warm, or at room temperature.

And it is so delicious, you just won't believe it! The perfect way to celebrate Tomato Season.

Divino!!

More of Ontario's finest...

Today is cooler (finally!) here in Ontario, and so I'm indulging in turning on the oven just long enough to produce some lovely treats with more of the local produce I found up at the farm this morning.

Tonight for dessert, we're having an enormous peach and blueberry crumble with home-made vanilla ice cream... I can smell the crumble bubbling over in my oven right now, and luckily the gooey blue rivulets are being caught by an old cookie sheet that I had the foresight to place underneath the casserole dish!! It makes for MUCH easier clean-up, that's for sure.

Now, our Ontario peaches are good, don't get me wrong. However, I have to concede that British Columbia's Okanogan Valley has it AAALLLL over us in the peach department. During the five years I lived out West, I spent the majority of the month of August eating as many of the enormous, fuzzy, juicy fruits as I could lay my hands on. I bought so many of them-- there were so many different varieties to try, each with their own subtle, wonderful differences-- that I wound up lightly poaching, peeling and freezing bags and bags of them, to keep them from "going off" and being wasted. We had a lovely winter stash of peaches with which to top our ice cream, which kept my husband from dwelling on my obsessive-compulsive hoarding tendencies.

Ontario peaches are good. With apologies to Niagara Farmers, whom I LOVE, don't get me wrong... The peaches are just a little on the small-size, in comparison to the BC fruit, in my humble opinion. They are sweet and juicy... but infinitely better when teamed with the humble blueberry.

And so here it is, folks, The Goddess' Peach and Blueberry Crumble recipe! Wonderfully easy, and best when served warm, with vanilla ice cream:

Peach and Blueberry Crumble

Peel and slice as many peaches as will fill about 2/3 of your chosen casserole (I use a medium sized, tall, round one).

Rinse as many blueberries as will fill the remaining 1/3 of your chosen casserole (but be sure to leave a little room at the top for the crumble... or your dish will ultimately overflow!!).

Gently mix the fruit together, to combine.

Add 1/2 tsp fresh lemon zest, and 3 tbsp granulated sugar, and gently mix again.

Topping:

3/4 c brown sugar
1/4 c flour

1/2 c rolled oats

1/4 tsp salt

1/4 c softened butter

Crumble the topping together with your fingers until it reaches a "lumpy" texture, and then spread it on top of the peaches and blueberries.

Bake 40 minutes at 350-375 degrees, with an old cookie sheet underneath!!

If you have one, it is WORTH IT to pull out the ice cream maker, and make your own vanilla ice cream to go with it!! Or, as my granny used to do, mix up some custard on the stove (I use Harry Horne's custard powder, although I am told Bird's is quite good, too), and place it on the table in a big jug when dessert is served... Each person can pour as much warm custard as they please over their crumble.

Yuuummmmmmmmm....

A Cake for Five Little Monkeys... and Mom and Dad, too.

This week, my new friend Canape (of Don't Take The Repeats and organizer extraordinaire of Team Whymommy) introduced me to another amazing blog: Five Little Monkeys. I highly recommend the read! It is written by supermom Jessica, about her life as the mother of FIVE CHILDREN: as in, one set of triplets, and one set of twins.

Jessica has just relayed the news that her husband, Jon, has been diagnosed with Hodgkin Lymphoma. Your prayers and positive messages for Jessica and her family would be so very much appreciated!!

For my part, Jessica, I promised you a cake recipe, fit for The Five Little Monkeys... and what better flavour than BANANA?! Here is the recipe for one of my very favourite desserts... it came to me from an elderly aunt who absolutely understood the importance of Comfort Food. I hope you enjoy it!

Now, line up those kids, and let THEM do the peeling, mashing and stirring!!

Love to you, Jessica, and know we are thinking of you. xoxo

Banana Cake with Fudge Icing

Mash three bananas, and mix in 1 tsp of baking soda. Let this stand while combining...

1/2 cup margarine

1 cup white sugar

1 large egg

2 tbsp milk

1 1/2 cups flour

Mix in the bananas and soda, then pour the batter into an 8 inch square pan. Bake at 350 degrees for about 40-45 minutes.

Now, the best part: Fudge Icing!!

Combine in a medium saucepan:

1 1/2 cup brown sugar

1 tbsp flour

1/4 cup butter

1/4 cup milk

1 tsp vanilla

Stir all of this together over medium heat, until it comes to a boil. Allow it to boil for ONE MINUTE (and one minute only!!) Remove saucepan from the heat, and allow the mixture to cool. Then, beat the mixture with an electric mixer until the texture of the icing is thick and creamy... then spread over the cooled cake. Quickly!!

yuuuummmmmmmm...

Cookie Conundrum...

Child Number Three, aged three, loves to bake. There is absolutely nothing that she enjoys more than donning her tiny little Mennonite-style apron, pushing a chair across the kitchen and positioning it in front of the counter, where she stands and helps me to carefully measure, pour and stir together just about any recipe. "The Messier, the Better" seems to be about her only unspoken guideline. This is a kid who is not afraid to get her hands dirty-- or anything else dirty, for that matter. She can stir and dump and roll and knead with the best of 'em. My kitchen usually looks as though a small hurricane has passed through it when we're done, and she is finally positioned on the same chair, only seated this time. She holds her favourite blanket, with a pacifier firmly planted in her mouth (the other thirteen are kept in her purse), and watches the baking through the oven window with the same kind of rapture that most kids her age watch "Dora The Explorer". She's generally a little flour-y, and definitely more than a little sticky by the end of the process, but no other activity satisfies her like a little productivity in the baking department.

One of our favourite recipes is for a soft ginger spice cookie, which I found in last year's November issue of Chatelaine Magazine. Wee Three loves it because there is plenty of hand-mixing involved, as well as rolling the dough into little balls. It's just like playdough, except it smells good, and you can actually EAT IT!! Best of all, however, before the little balls of cookie dough are placed on the baking sheet, each one is rolled in GRANULATED SUGAR. This is, without a doubt, my youngest daughter's favourite part of the entire recipe. She rolls those little suckers around with such incredible enthusiasm, the cookie dough balls are far from the only things that are completely coated with sugar by the end of the process.

About a week ago, we took an "assembly line" approach to ginger cookie-making. I rolled the dough, and then handed each little cookie ball to Wee Three, who did her usual job of the sugaring. She then placed each cookie onto a baking sheet, ready for the oven. It wasn't until after we had finished, and she was settling herself on her chair in front of the oven window, that I noticed a little "bald" stripe down the middle of each sugared cookie-dough ball. The bald patches weren't all on the tops of the dough balls-- some were on the sides as well. I didn't think much of it, and figured that she just hadn't done her usual, practically-perfect job in our haste to get the recipe completed (we had company arriving, and still had the rest of the house to tidy up, as well). I just shrugged, and put the baking sheets into the oven.

It wasn't until we were actually SERVING the cookies to our friends about an hour later, when Child Number Three offered her four-year-old cohort a "Lick-it Cookie", that I came to the horrifying realization what that little "bald patch" on the cookie dough balls had actually BEEN... My little Christer of a daughter had licked nearly every. single. one. before placing them on the baking sheet.

My visitor, who is a dear friend, a mother, AND a family physician, laughed hysterically when I snatched the plate off the table, and explained why we would be having cheese-and-crackers for our tea as an alternative... She insisted on eating the "Lick-it Cookies" ANYWAY, and assured me that any evil cooties my daughter may have transferred would have been eradicated during the cooking process... All I can say is: Dr. Gummy, babe, you're a brave woman, one HELL of a scientist, and an even BETTER pal. xoxo

So, here, dear readers, is my recipe for "Lick-it" cookies... Enjoy them warm, with a big glass of milk. Or, what the heck. Forget about the baking and just lick 'em instead.

Ginger Spice Cookies

2 c all purpose flour

2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp each cinnamon and ginger

1/2 tsp nutmeg

1/4 tsp salt

1 egg

3/4 cup vegetable oil

1/4 cup molasses

1 cup packed brown sugar

1/3 cup granulated sugar

1. Arrange oven racks in top and bottom thirds of the oven. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly spray or coat 2 baking sheets with oil (*I use parchment paper on the baking sheets first, then spray the paper*). In a medium bowl, using a fork, stir flour with baking soda, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and salt. In a large bowl, beat the egg. Then beat in oil and molasses. Beat in brown sugar until evenly mixed. Gradually stir in flour mixture until well mixed.

2. Place granulated sugar in a small bowl. Pinch off about 1 tbsp dough and roll into a ball. Then roll in granulated sugar until evenly coated. Place on baking sheet. Continue with remaining dough, placing balls at least 2 inches apart.

3. Bake on two racks in preheated oven, switching the position of the sheets halfway through baking, until the cookies begin to crack and set around the edges, about 7 to 10 minutes total. Remove baking sheets to a rack. Let cookies cool on the baking sheets. Store in an airtight container at room temperature up to 5 days, or freeze up to 1 month.