The Best 80th Birthday Party!

With the cake safely completed and tucked in the refrigerator, I could finally breath a sigh of relief and go outside to where everyone was already settled, enjoying the perfect weather under the sun, to say a proper hello. My aunt and uncle had come in from Calgary for the big event and the previous day, had taken my grandma for lunch with her other kids to Inferno's Bistro. My grandparents arrived and I gave my grandma a huge hug and kiss. Holding her tight while I rubbed her back, wishing her all the best and a wonderful birthday. My uncle's deck had bench seating all around the perimeter, so we took a load off and watched the dogs enjoy a romp around the huge backyard together. C and I had brought babcia a lovely card that was carefully picked out for its perfect wording, and then I wrote something personal for her. As she was reading the card, she started tearing up, and so I put my arm around her until she was done. She was quiet and hugged me and told me how much it meant to her to read those words and to have all of her family around her. She told me that she's never had such a fuss made over her before and she was so happy for it all. Seeing my grandmother that touched made the day feel even more special and memorable.

Mrs B, Murphy and Bailey, playing

After enjoying some appetizers of fresh cut up veggies and snack mix, everyone was relaxing in the sun, waiting for the last couple to arrive. Finally, it was time to put on dinner! My uncle whose house we were at put some chicken and smokies onto the hot BBQ and while those were busy searing and getting juicy and smokey, the ladies of the family unwrapped the salads and put out the rest of the meal onto the kitchen island, buffet style. I helped myself to some pickled beets, homemade salads (potato, broccoli, and a pasta salad), a bun, half a smokie, and some fresh from the BBQ chicken breast. Everything tasted so delicious and it was a very happy feeling to be eating outside on a beautiful day with my mom's side of the family. The chatting stopped for about 5 minutes while everyone tucked into their meals, savouring each dish and quieting their grumbling tummies with the food. Conversation resumed and I think everyone went back for seconds of something!

babcia's 80th birthday BBQ dinner

After such a great meal, you would think that there would be no room for dessert, but my grandma is not one to give up the most important part of the meal. We cleaned up the dishes and wrapped the leftovers from the fridge and everyone moved inside to congregate around the kitchen. I almost think that guests wanting to spend time in the kitchen comes from our ancestors who would have met around the central hearth of the home. After our stomachs had all settled, everyone was growing anxious to dig into dessert. I had taken the cake and ice cream out of the fridge in anticipation of this so that the ice cream could soften up a bit before serving and the cake could reach room temperature to really show off its flavours. After some dismissive hand waves to not make any fuss, I lit candles and a sparkler and we all sang "Happy Birthday" to babcia. Though she got a bit teary by having the spotlight on her, once I started to cut and serve the cake, she found a seat at the kitchen table with her husband, my hubby, my brother and his girlfriend and looked ready to dig into her special birthday cake.

The Perfect Party Cake, living up to its name

As promised in Dorie's baking book, the cake really stood up to being cut into slices and served. The layers didn't waver and the filling held together. The cake was indeed sturdy, but once a fork pierced the crumb, it was obvious that the cake was indeed moist and delicate. The flavours of the filling, cake and frosting, when I tasted them on their own while assembling the dessert, were nothing special. Now, after tasting a forkful of each layer together, could really see how well they each complimented each other. This was a true case of the sum being greater than its parts.

The cake: after

After making sure that everyone had a slice, this was all that was left of the cake. Twelve servings later, plus one large piece set aside for a friends birthday later that night, and there was still at least 3-4 servings left. This cake definitely could handle a hungry crowd. Homemade ice cream was scooped onto the side for everyone that wanted, and everyone was a taker. The chocolate malted ice cream with marshmallow cream swirls and chocolate covered caramel and malt balls was one of the best ice creams I had ever tasted. I could have definitely eaten more of everything just because of how great the flavour was.

The Perfect Party Cake and Chocolate Malt Ice Cream

While savouring each bite of sweet bliss, I listened to the mmm's and ahhh's of my family truly enjoying their desserts and I could feel a warm pride spread over my heart. The way to the heart is great food, made with love: of this, I have no doubt. While plates were being scrapped clean of the last morsels and drips, we all sat back, content, full, and happy. My grandfather, who as a child, I often thought of as a very stern and serious man (but who has softened in attitude over the past 5 years) stood up and with tears in his eyes, thanked everyone for making this birthday so special for his wife. He was choked up with gratitude that babcia's birthday had been such a memorable event, full of family and love. This is a memory of my grandfather that I will never forget. Many more hugs were shared. More laughs were enjoyed. Family group pictures were taken outside in the yard and finally, each couple started saying their goodbyes and trickling out of the house. I gave both my grandparents the biggest hugs and kisses and told them how much I loved them and was so glad that they had a wonderful and memorable party. My grandma loved the cake and her card, which was all that I had hoped for out of those recipes. While the cake was special to her, I doubt that I will ever make it again. It was very labour intensive, although it was a labour of love. One that will remain for babcia. So, The Perfect Party Cake has likely now been retired as an all-star, and will now be know as Babcia's 80th Birthday Cake.

The last bits of cake being enjoyed

The Perfect Party Cake (From Hell)

What a stressful and draining week. Saturday morning rolled around and I woke up relatively early with thoughts of cake baking on the brain. The ice cream was done for babcia's birthday, but I still had the daunting 4 layer Dorie cake to make. First things first though: Saturday morning breakfast! As previously mentioned, we have a mini-tradition here of doing pancakes or at least a larger breakfast together on Saturday morning that includes at least 3 components and a fresh pot of coffee. There is something very comforting and happy about knowing that at very least, for an hour in the morning (provided workers aren't coming over to drag mud through the house), I get to spend some quiet time with my husband, sometimes in our fuzzy robes even, enjoying a hearty hot and fresh breakfast together in a quiet house. Deep relaxed sigh. Just writing this makes me long for this Saturday morning to be here. Typically, as it goes, one of us is more tired and needs more rest that the other. It seems to alternate. Today, C really seemed to need sleep and I was more awake. So, I crept out of bed, cleaned the kitchen, and started preparing what I had already been thinking about for a few weeks: A B C pancakes. These pancakes are a warm and fuzzy memory from childhood. On Sunday mornings, my dad would always make a big breakfast for my brother and I, and one of his specialties, was ABC Pancakes. The batter is thinner than normal so that you can "write" with it on the griddle. Once the batter is mixed and rested, you just pour it into a food-grade squeeze bottle (I think mine is from Russell Foods) and go wild! I remember that one time, my dad attempted each my name and my brother's name, in cursive, and it was the most wonderful special pancake ever. EVER, I tell you! So, with this in mind, after the tough week, I knew the only breakfast to start the day out on a high note would be ABC Pancakes. They had the strength and power of nostalgia, whimsy, and tastiness backing them up.

We bought this griddle off Kijiji for $5 and it's not perfect (you can tell where the element runs and the middle doesn't cook as evenly as the outsides of the surface) but it works fine for what we're doing. I sprayed the first batch with PAM just to be sure and started out with C's first name. Easy!

ABC Pancakes go personal

The griddle was quite hot and the pancakes cooked fast! The batter turned out perfectly. I tasted one and the pancakes were delicate, soft, and just a bit sweet.

Golden brown deliciousness

Really, once you get the hang of using the bottle to squeeze out batter like paint, you can make any shape or design that you want. Just account for some slight spreading as the batter is thick so you'll need to use thin restrained lines if you are going with a lot of intricate detail. Some hearts were next, for my sleeping beauty (although, unshaven, grovelling morning voice and half shut eyes, maybe it should be beast, heehee)!

A little bit of breakfast love

Well, by golly, I was on a roll. So, with my dad's experience on my side, I attempted the grand finale, cursive names! They turned out beautifully and since these were my piece de resistance, I added some sausage and eggs to the griddle (for over easy), and went and woke up my hubby for some breakfast. The dripping of the coffee was done and the warm, rich aroma had filled the kitchen, along with the sweet smell of pancakes and saltiness of turkey sausage. If I could bottle this smell, I would wear it every day! I would call it "Lazy Saturday Breakfast", or maybe something more original.

The piece-de-resistance, almost ready to eat!

Although I was having a grand ol' time with my shapes and spirals and letters, C yelled to me from the couch to come sit down, so I finished off the batter with some quick squeezes. Silver dollar pancakes (I believe this recipe originate from the United States when there once was a silver dollar coin and these pancakes would have been the same size as those). It's my guess that this is what the recipe was originally for. I guess this shape is tasty too, but somehow my M's and hearts were the yummiest.

Silver dollar pancakes

 *   *   *

Ok, breakfast dishes were put away, the robe was traded for some shorts and a tank top, and it was time to get down to some serious business. We needed to leave by 2:15pm to get to my uncle's in Oakbank (a town not far outside of Winnipeg) in time for the scheduled time of 3pm for my grandma's 80th birthday BBQ. Deep breathes. This recipe was long. Many steps. Many bowls. Lots of mixing. I had just over 4 hours, so that seemed like just enough time. I was going to do this recipe by the book too. None of my normal shortcuts or ignoring of steps that I found to be tedious and likely unnecessary. So, I bought cake flour, as that's what it called for. The flour, leavening agent and salt also called to be sifted. Fine. I had a sifter. From my grandma even. So, I sifted away.

So. Time. Consuming.

Sifting the flour and dry ingredients

Now, you know a recipe is special (or "special", depending on how you look at it) when the lemon zest is not merely added to the batter, but massaged into the sugar. Yes, I had to massage the lemon zest into the sugar until the sugar was fragrant. Well, that's some spoiled sugar if you asked me!

Lemon zest about to be rubbed into the sugar until fragrant

Now, here's a step I recognized. Butter gets creamed into the sugar. Not margarine though. I went out and bought about 3 sticks of real butter. My grandma LOVES butter. If there was a word that meant more than love, I would use it. She cuts little pieces of the stick and eats them like that. She gets upset with us when we are over making a sandwich and we don't spread butter on the bread first. She uses it to cook with. She makes the most amazing brown butter bread crumbs for cooked cauliflower with it. She is from the old country as well, Poland. Back then, food was different. Chemicals weren't added to flavour foods. Meat wasn't injected with hormones. Pesticides, herbicides, and genetically engineered food wasn't rampant. Most importantly, people cooked with whole foods. These whole foods were also very pure. We just don't have that luxury today. Babcia swears that all the food now is tasteless. That all meat has the same flavour. I am inclined to believe her. So, knowing all of this, I wanted to bake her a cake and make her ice cream with the purest ingredients that I could.

Real butter, softened to room temperature, in the sugar mixture

True to my word of "following orders", I used the hand mixer while slowly adding in 1/3 of the dry ingredients, then half of the egg mixture, then 1/3 of the dry, rest of the eggs, and last of the dry mix. So much blending now. Phew!

Final batter, being blended for the required time of too long!

After all of my careful diligence to follow the instructions exactly as they are printed in the cookbook, my confidence was wavering. Hmm. I have cooked and baked a lot and typically if something is off, I can tell. The batter looked off. It almost looked like it was curdled. Now I was getting a little concerned. Was this normal? I checked back in the book to see if in any of the 3 pages of this recipe there was a warning that this might or would happen and not to panic. Nothing. Activate panic mode. Wait, think, think, there is always a logical explanation. Well, there was buttermilk in this recipe, and lemon zest. maybe the acidity from the small amount of lemon juice in the zest was enough to curdle the buttermilk a little, in which case, this wouldn't affect the baked product. There was nothing I could do now but dump the batter into pan number 1 and hope for the best.

Cake batter for 2, 9" round cake pans

Something else I should explain about how lengthy this cake making process became. The 9" round pans needed to be greased, with a round wax paper cut-out placed on the bottom of the pan, then greased as well. I got C to look after that for me. However, he brought to my attention that the sides of my one really good 9" round pan were straight, and the other pans edges were ever so slightly fluted, so if I used one of each, the cake layering would look less than perfect. Fine. So that meant that each cake layer needed to be baked separately, due to lack of pans, for 30 minutes each. What made this much worse though, was after the first cake came out of the oven and went onto the cooling rack, it was obvious that the 2 layers of cake which Dorie says will be cut in half and frosted in between would never produce a cake as tall and monumental as the one she showed in her pictures of "The Perfect party Cake". I was in panic and upset mode now. There was such limited time and this cake was turning out to be a disaster! The time lost wasn't even the point. If this cake wasn't up to or exceeding my grandma's standards, then I would consider this a hugely sad failure to disappoint her on such an important birthday. C grabbed the reins of my quickly falling confidence and said that he would go to the store and buy all the ingredients that I would need to make another 2 cakes. I argued with him that I needed more butter, lemon and cream and did he know how long it took to make the first batch of batter, and let's not forget that each cake baked SEPARATELY for 30 minutes. Quickly calculating my timeline, it seemed impossible. He stood his ground and firmly reminded me that I would not be satisfied with a less than perfect cake for this event, told me I was being "difficult" (a word he uses a little too often, I think) and basically told me to suck it up and just do it. So, he went to the store, and I reminded myself that tears would not help my egg whites turn into meringue.

Egg whites being whipped into submission

Deep breathe and back to the never ending whisking and mixing. Egg whites get whipped into glossy smooth meringue for the frosting, then, the secret ingredient gets added to make it perfect buttercream. Butter. Did I mention how much my grandma loves butter and how much of it is in this recipe? That fact alone should produce a tasty dessert. Once again though, disaster began to arise. The buttercream wasn't looking so smooth and white anymore. It seemed clumpy, oily and thick. This can't be right?! I swear this cake was going to give me a heart attack with all of the panic-inducing moments! I decided that the only thing to do was to keep mixing it with the beater and hope for the best again. It came together a bit better, but I wasn't convinced. I tasted it and felt disappointment running over my tongue. I asked C to taste the lemon buttercream because I am not the best judged mixing. Egg whites get whipped into glossy smooth meringue for the frosting, then, the secret ingredient gets added to make it perfect buttercream. Butter. Did I mention how much my grandma loves butter and how much of it is in this recipe? That fact alone should produce a tasty dessert. Once again though, disaster began to arise. The buttercream wasn't looking so smooth and white anymore. It seemed clumpy, oily and thick. This can't be right?! I swear this cake was going to give me a heart attack with all of the panic-inducing moments! I decided that the only thing to do was to keep mixing it with the beater and hope for the best again. It came together a bit better, but I wasn't convinced. I tasted it and felt disappointment running over my tongue. I asked C to taste the lemon buttercream because I am not the best judge of taste for all full-fat foods, especially when I am rilled up. C's eyes rolled back and he declared that it was amazing. I assumed that he was lying to make me feel better, but it worked.

The secret ingredient in buttercream. Shhh!

I warmed the seedless raspberry jam so it was spreadable and began assembling the cake layers. Four layers, 2 batter recipes, and each one was secured together with a thick layer of lemon vanilla buttercream and jam. Some wooden BBQ kabob sticks went through the layers to hold them all together. I packed up the leftover buttercream that would be used to do the sides and the top, the sweetened shredded coconut, the hand mixer, candles, serving utensils and wrapped up the cake. It had a 45 minute car ride now to my uncle's place, and it was 30 C outside and sunny. Had I more time, I would have stuck the cake in the freezer for a bit to ensure that nothing slid around but there just wasn't time. We turned the A/C on full blast, I held the cake on its stand on my lap, and off we went!

Layering vanilla cake with lemon butter cream and seedless raspberry jam

Miracle of miracles and without following any trends from the cake making, the cake arrived unscathed at the party. My grandparents weren't there yet so before saying hello to anyone, I got down to the last bit of business. I spread the butter cream around the sides and top of the cake. Just enough to do it. Then, making a huge mess on my uncle's counter and floor (which I cleaned up afterwards, thankyouverymuch), pressed handfuls of sweetened shredded coconut to the sticky butter cream to finish the effect of a fluffy, white, perfect party cake. I must admit that for those that didn't have the pleasure of witnessing the labour that went into the creation of this special dessert, the final product was definitely something to behold. Tall, elegant, and majestic, this did indeed look like The Perfect Party Cake. When it was time for dessert, we would all find out.



Dorie's Perfect Party Cake, completed





The Healing Power of Ice Cream

Thursday evening my parents stopped by the house to drop off some flowers for C and for his family as well as to pick through some more of the limestone rocks that we hauled out from the basement. During the digging of the foundation footings, some huge pieces of limestone cracked off from the existing wall and had to be broken up so we could physically carry the pieces outside. The rocks are actually quite beautiful so instead of just chucking them in the trash, my mom and I are going to use them in our yards for landscaping.

I still hadn't made the ice cream for my grandma's birthday since the week had been pretty hectic and so my dad offered to help me make it that evening and I took him up on that offer. It's always nice to have a loved one in the kitchen when you need a shoulder to lean on. I had originally planned to make a cherry vanilla ice cream, but then, after some thought, decided to do a chocolate malt ice cream with chunks of chocolate. Since the cake was a vanilla lemon raspberry, it seemed a better choice to stand out from the cake. So now, down to business. 

The first step in making this ice cream was to prepare the chocolate malt flavour. I whisked up chocolate malt powder into some whole milk and let that sit. I found the chocolate malt powder in the ethnic food aisle at Superstore, not with the chocolate milk mixes. I had bought Ovaltine a couple weeks ago, thinking that it would taste like chocolate malt. Not even close! Let me tell you, the taste was disgusting! What I was hoping for, was the taste of a chocolate malt, like from the Malt Shoppe that used to be at St.Vital Mall before it was redone, and at The Bay downtown. Mmm, Homer Simpson drool...

Chocolate malt powder in cream

With the cream mixture off to the side, I had to make an egg custard base (French style). I adjusted the clip on the candy thermometer so that it could sit on the edge of the pot without touching the bottom of the pan. I whisked together the egg yolks and set them aside. Then, whole cream was put into a pot to simmer until steaming, without reaching a boil. The hot cream needed to get mixed into the eggs, without cooking them. Tempering the eggs is so critical in this recipe since nobody wants bits of scrambled egg in their ice cream. Well, not this lady anyways.

We tempered the eggs without problem (you achieve this by slowly adding 1/3 of the hot cream mixture to the eggs, all while quickly whisking or using a hand mixer, then slowly pouring in another third, while mixing) then carefully added the mixture back into the pot to heat up to 170 C. While the mixture is reaching the proper temperature, it needs to be whisked the entire time so that no one spot is heated too high at once.

Egg mixture being heated

Whisking the heating eggs and cream - very important!

Once I took the custard mixture off the stove and dumped it into a metal bowl, I noticed that there were some chunks at the bottom of the pan. Hmm. I was concerned that some of the eggs did get cooked before tempering. We poured the custard, even the chunks, into a metal bowl and placed it over cold water that was in the sink. My dad looked a little worried, but I reassured him that it would be ok (even though I wasn't entirely sure). I whisked the custard in the bowl in the water, being careful not to have any water spill over the sides, to try and cool it faster. My dad and I strained the custard through a fine metal sieve and had a taste to make sure that everything was fine. It tasted alright but I was still a little worried. Nothing to do now but wait and see and hope for the best. We put the mixture into the fridge to cool overnight. My parents had all of the rocks that they wanted, we shared some tea, exchanged hugs and said goodnight. We'd see them tomorrow.

*  *  *

Friday. C had to get up early to head out to with the men of the family to prepare the site. I got up early as well and cleaned the house so that it would be tidy for that day. I find a clean and uncluttered house relaxing to be in, and on a tough day, it's even more important to have a peaceful space to come home to. The family ceremony was at 2pm and the later one at 7pm was for everyone to come and pay their respects to the family and hear the sermon. After the ceremony at the site, C and I headed back to his parents place with his brother and we all ate some A&W together, sitting around the kitchen table. Talk was light and we shared some stories, peppered with bouts of thoughtful silence. We were both already tired and C and I decided to go home and change out of our dress clothes and put our feet up for a bit before heading back over. Plus, our little beast needed a pee break too.

I had figured that with the time at home, I would finish up the ice cream, leaving just (just. ha-ha, just a 2 page 4 layer cake recipe that would likely use all of my prep bowls) to make Saturday morning. I find something very therapeutic about throwing myself into a recipe with multiple steps. I think that with the focus and concentration each step takes, that the anxiety or stress loses its momentum within my brain. Cooking is my therapy. In the right circumstances, the right recipe, it's actually a recipe for healing.

With the custard mixture already cold from being in the fridge all night, the next few steps would be fairly straightforward. As per usual, the custard gets poured into the frozen spinning canister of the ice cream maker. My timing so far has been about 20 minutes until the mixture starts to get thicker, with another 5-10 minutes to finish.

Chocolate malt ice cream base

So, with the ice cream maker whirling away, I was free to prepare the rest of what was to be added to the base. Some crunchy bits to add contrast to the smooth creaminess of the base. I had decided on chocolate covered caramel balls and chocolate covered malt balls (both thanks to Superstore's bulk section). Since the ice cream maker instructions suggest to keep any additions to the base to be about the size of a chocolate chip, I had some chopping to do. Oops, one fell of the cutting board...chomp chomp. Oh, that one's not even...chew chew. Ok, and I also shared a couple malt balls with C, so it was fair.

Chocolates to add to the ice cream, about 1.5 cups

Another idea that I had was to swirl something through the ice cream base. I had juggled around a couple of ideas: fudge sauce, caramel sauce, marshmallow fluff... In the end, I decided to go with the marshmallow fluff. I thought that it might be like having a cappuccino with cream.

Marshmallow fluff, from Extra Foods

So, the delicious chunks of chocolate were added to the ice cream maker in the last 5-10 minutes of churning and then it was done. This is the final product. Mmmm! More Homer happy drool sounds proceeded the tasting spoonful. This was by far my favorite ice cream this far. I could have eaten the entire batch, fresh, right there on the couch.

Chocolate malt ice cream with chocolate malt and caramel chunks

Just kidding, I didn't eat the whole batch. I used a spoon to scoop out the soft ice cream from the drum, so that I could spoon marshmallow cream in between layers of the ice cream. I used a plastic ice cream container from my grandma to store the result of this creation.

The last spoonful from the drum, before being added to a freezer container

The final ice cream. Chocolate malt ice cream with swirls of marshmallow fluff and chunks of chocolate covered caramels and malt balls. BEST. ICE CREAM. EVER. David Lebowitz was right. This was the one ice cream of all the ones that he gave away, that he didn't give away. My family is lucky that I am alright at sharing. So, into the freezer it went. After a few tastes of course. I mean, I had to be sure that this was perfect. Om nom nom!

We'll see what everyone else thinks tomorrow.

Fresh homemade chocolate malt ice cream



A Hard Week Calls for Comfort Food

This week has been a very hectic, emotional, and draining one. Preparing food for ourselves hasn't been the best or healthiest this week what with everything going on. One evening in the middle of the week, the temperature outside was cool and autumn-like. C decided that for dinner, he wanted Toad in the Hole again, and so we went out to Superstore to get the sausage that we needed (as well as the ingredients for my grandma's 80th birthday cake). We decided to get 2 different kinds of sausage. An Italian pork one for C and a breakfast turkey sausage for me. C handled the Toad in the Hole while I figured out how to use up the squishy tomatoes and prep up the side dish.

First, the sausages need to be cooked in cast iron skillets. We had a couple of different sizes so C made 2, one small one for me and one larger one for himself.

While the sausage was cooking, he mixed up the batter for the popover. Instead of just cooking the sausage over the stove, he also put both skillets into the oven for the last bit of time. I know that this would definitely help the popovers rise even higher. Once the sausages came out of the oven, the batter needed to be immediately poured into the pan (the sausages and any fat drippings, stay in the pan) and then put right back into the hot oven.

Batter being poured into the hot cast iron pans

Once the Toad in the Holes are put back into the oven, they have to stay in there and bake until the popovers are puffy and browned. If the oven door gets opened during this baking time, the popovers could fall. So, I had chopped up the squishy tomatoes and some garlic and put those in the oven to roast a bit before the Toads went in so that they were able to finish cooking while the popovers were in and everything could just come out at once.

 a Once, the Toads puffed up and were browned, then both came out of the oven to cool slightly and were ready to be cut up. These babies turned out amazing! It's pretty awesome when your husband knows how to cook well. I can trust that what he makes is going to be not only tasty, but that he keeps in mind that I do want and like to eat healthier.

Giant "his" and "her" Toads

His Toad in the Hole, starting to fall slightly

Both Toads, fallen and ready to serve

Again, the crisp cool temperature outside made a fresh tomato soup seem like a comforting dish to have in the fridge for the week and to pack for lunches. My mom has an amazing garden in her huge backyard, and she very sweetly shares much of her bounty with us. We had some leftover sweet basil and rosemary in the herb bag she had left for us so I decided to chop those up for the soup since they were beginning to wilt.

Fresh herbs from mom's garden

The fragrant roasted tomatoes and garlic were added to a pot. I sauteed half of a leftover onion prior to this and left it in the pot. Leftover chicken stock (homemade, and reduced sodium store-bought varieties) was added over the onion and tomato. Do you see the leftover trend here? I had a bit too much zucchini that I had prepped for dinner so I  dropped some of that into the pot with the fresh chopped herbs. One of the nicest things about soup is that it's very forgiving about the ingredients that you add in. It's the perfect vehicle for leftover veggies.

Roasted tomato soup before being blended

Meanwhile, as all of this other cooking is going on, my vegetable rule with dinner and lunch still stood. I had picked up some zucchini and yellow squash from Superstore (my mom hadn't yet dropped off fresh ones) so I chopped those up into hearty bite-sized chunks and simply sauteed them in a pan until there were still crisp but tender and warm.

2 Different coloured veggies for dinner

Right before sitting down to eat together, I got C to puree the roasted tomato soup so that it could simmer on the stove and develop its flavour while we ate. I tasted a little spoonful and it was a beautiful fresh clean flavour. There's a definite satisfaction in creating a tasty, healthy, fresh-tasting dish that will last for a week, out of ingredients from the fridge that might otherwise have just been tossed in the garbage. Please, treat your leftover ingredients and produce in the fridge as precious pieces to a tasty puzzle. All you need to figure out is how they go together. Once you find the right fit to a couple, the picture becomes clearer, and the rest of the ingredients will become obvious and fall into place. Try not to throw anything away.

Fresh roasted tomato soup

The soup was simmering, dinner was hot and so we sat down to take a deep breath and enjoy a healthy dinner together, on the couch while we watched another episode of "our" newest show, Fringe, season 2. The meal was perfect. Warm, comforting, and satisfying in amount of food and flavour. Just what we both needed.

Beginnings and Endings

After our dinner party on Saturday, we had a fridge full of leftovers. While the chocolate cake was quickly divide up and shared with my grandma and parents (as well as eaten for another couple of nights as dessert, mmm), there was still one whole chicken in the fridge and 2 carcasses taking up plenty of space. C is very efficient at breaking down a bird. When he's done, no meat is left on the bone. With a whole roasted chicken waiting for him to eat over the course of the week though, there wasn't a need to be as precise with the 2 leftover chickens. C had been talking about making chicken soup. The first time we had done this together, we barely had a shred of meat on the bones and the soup wasn't very rich. We've since learned to leave some meat to cook down with the water. So, as soon as we got some time, C got to work on the stock. Two full carcasses, rough-chopped carrots, onion, and whatever other veggies he could find in the fridge that needed to go. We put in a couple of bay leaves and some pepper then went about our business of errands once the water had boiled and we could turn down the element to simmer the stock.

After our errands, we came home to the wonderful smell of from-scratch made chicken broth, mmm! The smell is an instant mood-booster and transports you back to a childhood memory of you mom making a big pot of soup on the stop on a cold winter day. The smell really does warm the soul. After ample sniffing of the air and the steam and oohs and ahhs with our closed eyes, we drained the vehicles of flavour that had released all of their goodness into the pot and were now just empty vessels.

Chicken broth being drained

The broth was rich and oily from the chicken fat, and some chicken soup powder was added to boost the flavour. After a few adjustments, the soup was done and it tasted heavenly. I had a bowl that night, just plain, in a mug. The salty, meaty taste was perfectly lovely, and the chicken went on to live again as its last parting gift to us.

Half of the stock went into the freezer in an empty ice cream pail to use one night to make a real chicken soup with meat, veggies and fresh dumplings that my husband has mastered from my mom's recipe. I love when he makes those for me. I feel like an excited kid, waiting for them to be done so I can pluck them out of the broth and gobble up the pillow-soft puffs of dough, flavoured with the salty broth that everyone secretly know the richness of it comes from the love of those that prepared it.

Chicken stock - half frozen for later use

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This next post is about loss, so those of you who do not wish to delve into talk of life and death should skip the last bit of this post.

***

While on the subject of memories, love, and living on through something else

Tuesday morning, I received a phone call at work that set in motion a sad and draining day for C and his family. His grandmother had passed on. Both C and I immediately drove to the home that she had been cared for in, and met up with his family. Arrangements were made, many tears, hugs, stories, goodbyes, laughs and condolences were shared. Later that day, at C's parent's house, family and friends stopped in to offer sympathy for the loss and share the joy at the life that they had known. Death is the other half of life that we try not to think about, but inevitably, we are reminded that our time here is limited. Much like how we often need reminders and incentives to get something done around the home, or a kick in the pants when we get into a run, the death of someone close to our circle, or much loved, brings to light a re-evaluation of our own current state. It takes a death to remind us to live. While it seems cliche to say "live each day to its fullest" as well as personally thinking that this is difficult to do since many days are lived to reach another day that we will be able to fully enjoy (the way we work to be able to afford a trip we really would like to enjoy, or retirement plans). However, it is important every once in a while to take a conscious step back and try to look a bit more objectively at our lives. Ask yourself some fair but perhaps hard questions: Am I where I want to be right now? Do I know where I want to be in 6 months, 1 year, 5 years, 10 years? If I am not where I want to be, do I have a plan to change that? Am I happy? Do I appreciate life? Have I been taking people for granted? Have I told those I love that I love them?

Everyone has a different idea of what happens to a person's body and/or soul after death. Growing up in a number of different religions as a child and young adult, my teachings were varied and today, I hold onto only my own personal wishes of what I like to think happens to the soul. I would like to think that once the body is no longer alive (the brain is dead, the lungs and heart are not functioning...with modern technology, this can all be maintained through machines, but I am speaking of natural states of the body, without assistance) the spirit or essence of a person, leaves the empty shell that they once inhabited. The way a small crab whose grown to big for its current home, leaves to find a more suitable place to inhabit, I think of life in the same way. The soul of a person has outgrown their current body and can no longer call it home, so they are released to find a new place to inhabit. Many people would call these new homes heaven or hell, or purgatory, for the Catholics. Many believe that once the body is dead, the spirit no longer remains. Some people believe in resurrection. All of these topics are very touchy and provoking to some, so I am keeping this about my own personal beliefs and hopes. I dream that if there is a higher being, that their design was not for people to suffer, especially not for infinite amounts of time. I don't believe in hell. I like to believe that after our life on earth, we go to our second life. Not reincarnated, but to our own favorite memories and parts of life that we get to relive. We get to see those that we love, do the things that we love, and enjoy a place without suffering or death. A limited personal world. I am sure that many would want to argue with me and bring up all sorts of logical queries as to how this would work, but really, our thoughts of what happens after death are our own. Some faiths rely on the future possible outcomes as a way to coax people into living better lives and to have a reward or punishment at the end. I don't see it that way. I see that you have this life to enjoy to the fullest or suffer to the fullest, depending on your own decisions, and then, who knows, maybe we get what we hope for and expect after that, good or bad.

With the events of this week, I have been reflecting a lot on my current life. Am I happy? Am I where I want to be? Yes, I do wish that our house was finished and we could just enjoy living in it instead of stressing about getting it done. I am happy though. I am alright with still having work to do. Life is a balance. Without effort, without challenges and hardships to overcome, how would we appreciate the moments of true joy, bliss, and unconditional love? I love my family and my husband completely. The relationships I have with the people that I love are the most important things in my life. I don't wish hardship and loss in my life, but I am also not going to dwell on the loss and forget about the life. I lost my aunt after she battled breast cancer. She fought hard, but in the end, succumbed to her illness and slipped off to begin enjoying her second life. I know that she is happy knowing and watching the people she has left here enjoying life, laughing (as she did, often and infectiously), and remembering her fondly. I do believe that she is watching from somewhere and smiling, sending us thoughts of congratulations at marriages and celebrations and offering an invisible hug to comfort us when we feel lost. I have some tears in my eyes typing this. I know that when I married my husband, I thought about her and my great-grandmother who weren't able to enjoy the event in body, but I definitely know that they watched on and celebrated together in spirit for us.

Today is C's grandma's funeral. Funerals are hard because it is the final step and the final goodbye to the body. The heaviness of the hearts all contained in one place weighs on the shoulders of all of those sharing the grief. One tear can turn into many much more easily. Crying feels encouraged as a release of the sting of the death itself, and is accepted within the context of the event, shared by those around. I know that it is going to be a very hard day and while I didn't cry at the nursing home, I know that tears will flow more readily within the confines of the church. I am saddened for the loss, but that sadness is always for more selfish reasons. I wanted to be able to see her sharing in the future joys of her family and friends. I think most about wanting her to have seen her other grandson get married, even though he isn't currently dating anyone. I just know though, that when that time comes, like my nana, she'll be there in her best dress, dancing the night away, laughing, toasting, and wishing him only the very best with sparkles in her eyes, reflected in the star of the night sky.

I am thinking of today as a celebration of her life. The very first day that C and I decided to end the games and just be together, she was the first person we told. We were in the parking lot of the nursing home and C asked "so, is it ok if I introduce you as my girlfriend?" I said yes and grandma smiled at us with that knowing look and told us how happy she was. I will fondly remember her slapping C, playfully but strongly for a woman of her age, whenever he would tell her something that she would half jokingly disapprove of. I will remember that I once baked her a cherry pound cake, full of butter and sugar (even though she was diabetic. A stubborn diabetic) and brought it over for her to enjoy. My first bundt pan experience. I will remember that in addition to all the photos of past and present family members that were lovingly adorning all corners of her room, she also had a special board with photos of every one's pets, as they were just as much a part of the family. I will remember C going to show her his first tattoo, that he got after his dog Max passed on. Not to worry, because I know now that grandma is running around with Max, maybe even in Africa, where she spent some time. I remember how happy she was the day that we got engaged and immediately drove to the home to show her the ring and share with her the good news. She kept looking at the ring on my hand and held my hand for the whole visit. I will remember her determined attitude to attend our wedding and how happy I was that she was able to come and how much I knew that meant not only to C but for the whole family. We have lovely pictures to hang, once we finally get around to filling out collage frames. Most recently, she also had that same determined attitude when C's brother bought his first motorcycle after taking the beginners riding course and when he rode it over to show her, she wanted to get on the back! I am sure it wasn't an easy feat, but there is a very happy picture to prove that she did it. I can still see the child-like excitement shining through her smile at all of these simple life pleasures. Every person sufferers heartache and hardship in their life, and she had her share of both when she lost her own husband a number of years ago to congestive heart failure. She was blessed to have spent so much time with the man that she loved, and even more so for having loving and caring children that despite being in a nursing home where she received round the clock care if needed, she was also visited almost daily by C's mom and aunt. In the summer, when C and I were really buckled down working on the house every night and weekend, I had many trips to Home Depot with C's mom, and after each visit to grandma's she made, I would hear whether she was in a good mood and it was a pleasant or fun trip, or if grandma was extra crotchety and moody. I say this with a smile as no matter how much we love people, they will always test our patience when they are difficult and obstinate, as we simply have to roll our eyes and wait for the dark cloud to lift.

I will remember the last visit that we went to see grandma. I had been bugging C that we head to the home as we hadn't visited in a while. We brought Mrs B as grandma loved dogs and animals in general and always got a kick out of our little hippo of a Frenchie. B was running around the room, exploring, and biting her fingers and she was laughing. The visit was nothing out of the ordinary, we caught her up on our lives and asked what was new. What did catch me off guard was before we left, we hugged grandma as per usual and told her to take care, C said "I love you". Of course I know that he fiercely loves his family, but they are not an "I love you" saying bunch. I don't think that I ever recall his parents hugging or holding hands or kissing, or anyone of them saying "I love you" to each other, so hearing those words from C's lips, to his grandma was surprising but wonderful. Life surprises us in many ways, and while nobody knew when grandma would pass on, I am eternally grateful that C said those words on our last visit to see her. I know that even if he hadn't, she knew, but this is now my last memory, and the most powerful one.

Dinner and Movie: Chocolat, pour six

Saturday night, C and I were hosting a dinner party for 4 of our friends. Two other married couples that I have known for a long time. We booked this dinner quite far in advance since we do rotating themed dinners. This party was Dinner and a Movie. The rules included that the food must be all homemade (as per every dinner in this series) and based on or inspired by a movie. After a lot of ideas, I decided on the movie Chocolat (2000). One of my favorites. If you haven't seen it, watch it now, but we sure to have dessert standing by. Starring Juliette Binoche, Judy Dench, and Johnny Depp, this is a visually beautiful and uplifting inspiring story. "When a single mother and her six-year-old daughter move to rural France and open a chocolate shop - with Sunday hours - across the street from the local church, they are met with some skepticism. But as soon as they coax the townspeople into enjoying their delicious products, they are warmly welcomed." excerpt from IMDb.

movie Chocolat: go watch it, now!

So, the meal was going to be French inspired food, with decadent chocolate dessert. In the movie, there is a dinner scene where some of the townspeople, grandmother (whose birthday everyone was celebrating) and the "river-rat" (Johnny Depp) are treated to a wonderful al fresco dinner by the wandering chocolate maker, Vienne (Juliette Binoche). They are served rich chunks of meat with chocolate sauce. At the end of the meal, dessert is served on a gypsy boat, and is full chocolate decadence.

Around 3pm, C went to meet a friend for a workout, and I decided to focus on the piece de resistance, the chocolate cake.

This wasn't any chocolate cake recipe. This was the Epicurious Double Chocolate Layer Cake. I stumbled across this cake on David Lebovitz's site at least a year ago, and have just never had a real opportunity to try this out. Here is the link to the recipe.

Double -Chocolate-Layer-Cake

Since I had some quiet time, I decided that it would be a good opportunity to focus on the recipe with the most steps and using the most bowls.

Eggs were mixed until a soft lemon colour, about 5 minutes with a hand mixer.

Eggs

Semi-sweet chocolate was melted in freshly brewed coffee. The liquid ingredients blended in one bowl, the dry ingredients in another, and then all blended together. This recipe makes a large amount of batter but it's divided between 3 round cake pans (which i believe the recipe fails to mention).

Chocolate cake batter

After getting the cakes in the oven, I made the frosting so that it would have time to set a little in the fridge to thicken enough for icing the cake. The frosting uses a pound of chocolate, real butter, cream, sugar and corn syrup so you know it's going to be beyond decadent.

Chocolate frosting

 C came home from his workout and the cooking began. The first thing I whipped up was the appetizer. A smoked salmon spread. We picked up some fresh figs, grapes and french baguettes and put them out onto a wooden cutting board and in a pretty bowl for serving. The salmon spread was simple. One package of smoked salmon fillet from Superstore, skin removed, into the food processor. A 250g container of light whipped cream cheese was added, along with the zest from one lemon, the juice from half the lemon, and salt, pepper, and dill.

Smoked salmon spread ingredients

Blend and done! I put this into a tiny cast iron pot and stuck it in the fridge to develop the flavour before dinner.

Smoked salmon spread

Salmon spread, ready for serving

Before more cooking was going to get started, I figured that I should have some lunch. So, I saved a hunk of the smoked salmon to put into an omelet with some alfalfa sprouts and homemade guacamole. My grandma would be happy too...fresh rye bread with real butter.

Fuel before the cook-fest



Cooking a large, multi-course dinner for 6 people (or more) is hectic and requires careful timing of all of the dishes to they are served at the same time, at their proper temperatures (whether that be hot, cold, or room temperature). C and I work a kitchen like a well oiled machine. We are veterans of the dinner party prep and we can each look after our own dishes, but timing them off of each others. We would probably look grumpy to an outsider, but it is that focus that we both have to execute the product to a certain standard. We bark times and questions, and "behind!" or "hot" as we move around the space. In the end though, everything went off without a hitch for the dinner. With the kitchen organized-chaos taking place and all of the counters packed, taking pictures would have just been too hard. Instead, I took end product pictures and will walk you through the dishes.



Appetizer photo courtesy of Mrs RT.

The appetizers were the salmon spread, as mentioned, served with fresh white and whole wheat baguette (which was did not make ourselves, lol), some fresh figs and grapes. Just something light, to take the hunger edge off while we finished our last dinner preparations and let our guests catch up with each other.

A fresh salad of spring greens, sliced almonds, crumbled light goat cheese with red wine poached pears and a balsamic dressing started the meal nicely. Light, fresh, sweet with a strong acid to cut through the fruit and the creamy tangy cheese was delightful! The ripe fresh pears were sliced up, put into a saucepan and red wine (we used a Cab-Sav

French style salad and dressing

The side dishes followed my veggie rule: 2 different types of veggies of 2 distinct colours. The beautiful jewel toned beets were boiled, skinned (once the beets are cooked, they can be immersed in cold water and the skin should peel off in your rubber or latex glove clad hands...unless you'd like to stain them pink) and then topped with a drizzle of olive oil and seasoned with sea salt and cracked peppercorns. The green beans were seasoned the same. Simply steamed in a pan with some water over the stove, they retained a firm crunch and vivid green colour.

Beets and green beans

C was in charge of the chickens. He's often in charge of the protein portion of the meal, but definitely always in charge of poultry. I find chicken disgusting to handle, especially the skin. Brrr! It makes me shudder just to think about peeling off greasy cold chicken skin and fat from a bird or breaking it down. If I was to make chicken on my own, it would be boneless, skinless tenderloins of the bird. C has no problem handling the fryer chickens and did a bang-up job at it too. He seasoned the outside with herbs de province and then put them in a lovely Paderno non-stick roasting pan that we got for a steal at Canadian Tire last Christmas season. Breast side down, so that the meat absorbs the juices, and one basting. An hour later, perfectly moist, juicy chicken. This is one of my biggest complaints about most chicken is that it ends up dry and flavourless. C is the master at chicken and it was neither. Tender, moist, flavourful, juicy. while the chicken was cooking, he also baked some whole garlic bulbs in foil. Tops cut off and drizzled in olive oil, the final product results in cloves that can be squeezed easily from the firmer "husk" with a sweet mild flavour, not at all pungent like its raw version. These can then be spread over french baguette and enjoyed alongside the meal.

One of the keys to the al fresco dinner scene of the movie that I wanted to re-create was the rich chocolate sauce or gravy that was poured over top, bathing the meat. I found a mole recipe online and worked from there, until I got the consistency and taste that I wanted. I didn't want the sauce to be sweet since it was for poultry. I heated chicken stock and corn starch in a saucepan then added 1/4 cup of semi sweet chocolate chips and simmered the mixture until it thickened. I then added a dash of cinnamon, about a Tbsp of cocoa powder, and a pinch of cayenne pepper. The sauce turned out to be perfect. Rich but grown-up tasting. More bittersweet than sugary-sweet and a bit of bite from the pepper.

Oven roasted chicken and garlic with chocolate gravy

The meal was a big hit with our friends and we all enjoyed the comfort of good homemade food with some refreshing sparkling wine. Pleasant company and engaging conversation was bountiful. There's nothing quite as satisfying as sharing good food with good friends. The combination feeds both the body and the spirit.

Dinner and a movie - the meal

The movie Chocolat is based on the life of a chocolate maker, whose recipes and nomadic ways have been passed on throughout generations. She dispenses both sweets and life lessons to the townspeople who are spiritually lost and shrivelling under an oppressively rigid mayor. There are a number of scene where hot chocolate is served. It acts as a comfort in a cup. This hot chocolate is pure. Nothing more than melted chocolate and is given a pinch of chili powder before being served, to give it a little pick-me-up taste. The hot chocolate that I made was melted semi-sweet chocolate and milk chocolate in a litre of half and half, with some cinnamon and cayenne pepper whisked in until smooth. Served in little espresso cups provided by my friend, the indulgent little drink before dessert was the perfect prelude to what was yet to come. The cake. The air was already filled with the wonderful warm, sweet scent of melted chocolate from the drink, and the cake was waiting on the table, reaching room temperature and tempting our guests with its glossy coating.



pouring hot chocolate from my classy measuring cup (photo courtesy of Mrs RT)

Real hot chocolate



The grand finale. The chocolate layer cake. I have to admit something. I am not a big fan of chocolate cake. I think it might have to do with most of the one that I recall having in the past being dry, crumbly, with gritty frosting and just not as wonderfully sweet as a vanilla cake. However, the theme definitely called for chocolate and my hopes were high using a recipe that was one of the most-made recipes on Epicurious. The luscious, glossy cake looked pretty impressive. I was being won over visually.



Epicurious double chocolate layer cake



I will fully admit that the taste of the cake was as good as it looked. Even better actually. The crumb was moist, dense, but not heavy. Almost like a cake brownie. The frosting was rich, creamy, but not overly sweet, and was more of a ganache. The cake itself held up wonderfully after being in the fridge and cut perfect pieces, showing off all it's glorious chocolate layers. This is definitely a make-again recipe as well as a never-make-it-again-because-I-will-eat-all-the-leftovers-the-next-day recipe.



chocolate cake, cut



my new favorite cake



I now have a new favorite cake. So good, in fact, that I am almost rethinking my grandma's 80th birthday cake. However, I decided to make the Perfect party Cake as planned, and as a compromise, cut 2 large slabs of this beauty, tucked them into Tupperware, and brought them over to her and my grandpa today, for their dessert tonight (along with a little container of homemade cherry cheesecake ice cream).

This dinner party dessert can go down in the books as one of my favorites. I hope that you enjoy the pictures even half as much as I enjoyed eating this!

Cherry cheesecake ice cream (Photo courtesy of Mrs RT)

the end to a perfectly lovely meal