Living-Deliberately.com

Yesterday I continued the search for the perfect chocolate cake…I tried a recipe that used melted unsweetened chocolate instead of cocoa powder. I divided the batter into halves so I could try two of my dreamed-of cupcakes, Chocolate Mint and peanut butter cup.

They baked beautifully. I pushed a Reece’s miniature into the center of all the peanut butter ones and I used peppermint extract in the batter of the mint side. Then I gathered a new chocolate butter cream frosting recipe and divided that in half as well. Half got more mint extract and the other half, a cup of creamy peanut butter.

At the store I’d found some valentine York peppermint patties that sunk nicely into the mint cupcakes. I had planned to chop Goobers, chocolate covered peanuts, over the peanut butter ones but I instead went with chopped Reece’s cups, on my Dad’s recommendation that I should “keep things soft”.

The result? I think they are pretty, though I’m not sure I have them decadent/fancy enough….the cake was DRY so I’m still not there on that recipe. The frosting was FANTASTIC and I’ll definitely stick with it. It wasn’t too sweet, was very chocolaty, spread well, and kept it’s shape without getting hard.

Next up….I think lemon and raspberries…..

It’s been a two year goal, recently restated in my 2008 Goal list.

I thought my only January progress was going to be that I asked two guitar-playing friends for buying advice. My budget for an instrument was pretty much non-existant. In December I’d bought a book on how to play that has sat on my nightstand; every day I whispered a little hope that I’d get to actually use it soon.

On Saturday a friend and I ventured into a “big box” guitar store. It was smoky and filled with rockin’ teens looking for amps and electronics. No one spoke to us. We walked through the acoustic section and I stood under all those wooden dreams over my head. I figured the fruition was still a very long way off.

But yesterday, that happy-happiest of days, where the joy around was almost tangible, I stumbled onto a little new/used/trade guitar store. Joel of Guitars United spoke to me right away and gave me about a half hour lesson on the different kinds of guitars, what to look for, what would fit into my budget, and what kind of sound I could expect. I was pleased as punch with that and almost over the moon when he said he had a used case that I could get for about fifteen bucks. Hey… a book and a case is a start, right?

But then he had a buddy, and remembered a set-up that would be “perfect” for me and he gave him a call. I held my breath, not getting my hopes up too soon. There’s been enough hope-dashing around these parts lately! But lo-and-behold his friend Pete at Music Depot called him back, with indeed the perfect deal. Like I said, everyone was super helpful, happy, exhuberant. I drove across town after my counseling appointment and picked up my little beauty. And yes, I actually jumped up and down for joy, right there in the store. Pete played Blackbird and I almost cried.

The “deal” took my breath away yet again. You know those times when you are happy with a rock and God gives you a diamond? That’s what my guitar is to me. It fits my body just right, it has a great sound, and the wood is gorgeous. It is exactly the instrument of my dreams and when I play it, though it isn’t more than little buzzy plunks and strums right now, it is the music of my soul, of my dreams for more days and nights than I could count.

My goal is to learn to play the guitar, which I haven’t done yet. Last night I held one for the first time. And now I’m more on my way to realizing the fulfillment of the aspiration than ever before. It never ceases to amaze me how the deliberate and intentional striving towards a goal, no matter how realistic it may or may not seem in the beginning, can actually bring that goal to pass.

Cupcakes, dear and much-missed Smallworld. Cupcakes.

Yesterday I had the seredipitous experience of seeing happiness and happy people everywhere I went. It was almost surreal…like a “Happy” commercial, or like a platter of deliriously happy sweetness,  or the sweet optimism in Lilly Allen’s LDN video. The day was warm and balmy after a week of cold and drizzly rain. The sunshine was the kind one wants to sit and drink in, bathe in, wallow in. I had the windows down and the music up. Everyone I interacted with was smiling exhuberantly…the barista, the banker, the counselor, the salesmen, the cashier. When I came back over the river the sun was setting but the water was still baby, crystaline blue and it seemed traffic was going slower just to savor it. The sky was all pink and yellow. I had a “dream come true” (more on that later) in the back seat and my face was starting to hurt from smiling so big for so long.

I don’t know why it seemed an entire city seemed so blanketed in joy yesterday, only that one person’s happy translated to another’s happy with contagion I wish was only more common. My agenda yesterday was crammed of things that could have been blue and depressing and instead there was a bounce in my step and a sparkle in my eye. They, those beautiful people, had everything to do with that.

It was a “happy Tuesday”, a chance to celebrate living in the middle of the week, and I hope it spread and bled and somehow oozed into other regions. I dreamt of cupcakes and today, though it’s not Sunday, I will make more. Dreaming of cupcakes is a delicous way to wake.

Sunday afternoons are becoming “cupcake experiment” days. I have visions of liquors and cream cheese insides with ganache toppings, fruity little chocolate conconctions that entice one to take one and hide in the closet while eating it, away from many small and interested children…..

Today’s foray was into something I dreamed about: Malted Milk Ball Cupcakes. I wanted a chocolate cupcake with a creamy malt butter cream frosting (not too sweet though) and topped with a whopper candy.

I got my chocolate cupcake recipe online again, though it was absolutely not chocolaty enough. I think I may try a chocolate pound cake next time. I want it to taste like CHOCOLATE…not just a sorta-cocoa-sweet-cake. That’s what this one tasted like…too sweet, not chocolate enough. Maybe the difference is in using melted chocolate rather than cocoa powder?

I mixed the whole thing by hand again, doing my “200 strokes” and she’s right…doing things the long way sometimes can be quite zen. (BTW…check out her great header; someone painted that and I think it’s groovy.)

For the frosting, I used butter, cream, powdered sugar, and malt powder. The result was not stiff enough and definitely toooooo sweet. I topped them with a whopper and more crushed whoppers.

The result? Cute and sweet.

I think next time I’ll try a malted cupcake with a dark chocolate frosting, topped with crushed whoppers. This result fell short of how they tasted in my dream ;-). Oh, and I didn’t take this with a sepia setting but it kinda looks like that ‘eh?

We have built a table.

It is big.

We’ve joked many times that this will be a table to build a house around. A life around. It’s only a half joke.

We built it for $70 with framing lumber and a week’s time.

But this table is priceless.

10 2×8’s, yellow pine. We almost used Cypress, which had a nice Florida heritage idea to it, but I wanted imperfect, dentable, wood that would take on a nice patina in what will become a very normal life. So, plain, run-of-the-mill (so to speak) pine it was.

First, we ripped it into strips.

Then, two beads of glue on every side to be jointed. We gave close attention to how the grain was matching…or not. I wanted a sort of “butcher block” look.

Three boards, glued and clamped; the beginning of the top.

The legs were made of salvaged wood. Origonally they were the beams in some guy’s kitchen, remodled by my Dad. Then, they became legs for my mother’s work tables. Now, patina removed, they will be the legs that hold my table, pictured here with the frame.

Shortening them slightly. They had been “counter height”, 36 in, and we wanted the table to be a finished 32.

Learning to use the Router. It takes a little finesse to get it right! There are few dings and wavy lines here and there on my table…. patina!

Dad, bracing the legs. We used screws and carriage bolts. The table will need to be disassembled to be moved; it’s too big and heavy otherwise.

Lots and lots and lots of sanding.

Choosing a finish was hard! And I was considering distressing it with chains too. It became a debate between “honey” and “nutmeg”, though what I decided on hadn’t yet been presented.

The tops were ready for the planer. I LOVE the planer best of all the tools in the shop. Ugly, rough, imperfect things go in; smooth, refined, clean things come out the other side.

Clamping the top together. At this point, Dad started calling it my “aircraft carrier”.

Scraping the glue bumps; getting ready sand and grind the top.

Routing the edge. I went a groove that wouldn’t get dented too easily, nor be a food catcher.

Just taking a moment to appreciate that grain! I LOVE it. Each line represents a year of life. That always seems profound to me.

Break Time!

Sealing it to minimize warping, a real concern not using wood that wasn’t kiln dried and aged to the extent we would have liked.

I decided on a shade of stain between Nutmeg and Honey. It’s called…”Wheat”. I am using this photo to be true to the project’s process but I swear I look rather mannish in this one!

And here it is!!!! It needs to cure for a few days before we eat on it. I’m gathering chairs from various thrift stores and garage sales and painting them a royal, almost navy, blue.

It is The Table. I’m not sure how working with wood, smelling fresh sawdust, and Dad’s time heals exactly. Only that it does somehow.

I confess I haven’t been too involved in the latest/greatest/breakingest Political News lately…. but I have been glancing at the Primaries here and there. There is still only ONE candidate that talks about a “big enough” level of change for me and the only one who interests me enough to move me from an apolitical status to one where I actually may care enough to vote this time and be involved. So Ron it is. But I was disturbed lately to hear a rumor on the wind about some racists comments he may or may not have made. In true disclosure I have NOT heard the comments directly that are in question, nor do I have the time to go looking for them these days. But I am on his mailing list and I got this response in my inbox, that may be helpful to anyone interested in what he had to say about it all:

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE CONTACT: Jesse Benton

January 8, 2008 703-248-9115

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA – In response to an article published by The New Republic, Ron Paul issued the following statement:

“The quotations in The New Republic article are not mine and do not represent what I believe or have ever believed. I have never uttered such words and denounce such small-minded thoughts.

“In fact, I have always agreed with Martin Luther King, Jr. that we should only be concerned with the content of a person’s character, not the color of their skin. As I stated on the floor of the U.S. House on April 20, 1999: ‘I rise in great respect for the courage and high ideals of Rosa Parks who stood steadfastly for the rights of individuals against unjust laws and oppressive governmental policies.’

“This story is old news and has been rehashed for over a decade. It’s once again being resurrected for obvious political reasons on the day of the New Hampshire primary.

“When I was out of Congress and practicing medicine full-time, a newsletter was published under my name that I did not edit. Several writers contributed to the product. For over a decade, I have publically taken moral responsibility for not paying closer attention to what went out under my name.”

Should Ron not get the R. nomination, I will set my sites on Obama next, the one who had my interest before I heard of Ron. But he doesn’t excite me enough to do what Ron did, which was to get signs for my yard and stickers for my car. Oh and…hope for our future, which I hadn’t done in the political realm for a very long time.

is to get you alone.

“Meet me in the back of the bus.”

“Be at the back of the school at 3:30 or you’re toast.”

“Can’t we just meet somewhere and talk about this?” (accompanied by no break in the insults, invalidations, and interupptions….)

Their second greatest tactic is to get you to believe you are broken, wrong, ugly, etc.

Recently there was a major case in the news involving online bullying on a Myspace page that resulted in a teen’s suicide. A quick search of the words “online bully” and in the first set of results there is the headline, “Schoolyard bullies get nastier online…“. Why is that? Because they have more autonomy. Getting their victim alone is the primary goal because then they are free to do what they are most confident they can…manipulate and intimidate.

When they can’t gain access to their target, they get a sidekick to do their work for them. We sometimes call them “enablers”.  They think their bully-boss is the coolest, the “right” one, the champion. They do the bidding so they can get what they most want…love and appreciation. These enablers fear they won’t get it if they don’t do the work, so they turn a blind eye to any wrongdoing and proceed. In the abense of a sidekick, bullies often turn to stalking…leaving anonymous notes, prank calls, hit-and-run type attacks.

These are people who don’t respond well to boundaries because they’ve never had any set for them. And yet, the only defense against them IS boundaries. It can run the gamut from refusing to discuss certain topics, to staying away from their stomping ground, to getting a police order so they leave *you* alone. Their lack of restraint and personal responsibility is what one is up against and without it, external forces are necessary to end the abuse.

The town grieving the loss of Megan has made cyber-bullying against the law. Hopefully, that is an “external force” that will speak the language loudly enough to would-be bullies. I wish them well. By setting boundaries the world tells bullies that we won’t be their doormats; that they can take their toxic behavior elsewhere. Terrorists can’t be negotiated with.

I’ve been “reading” this blog the last few days…okay, confession: not reading, just scanning it for the beautiful and indulgent cupcake photography. I’m not headed to the kitchen to make any of these but I do sit and pout that there is not a similar bakery anywhere near me offering these tidbits.

And lest anyone take from the title any nasty little thoughts, the shots on the blog include only fluffy frosting, dainty cakes, and bodacious toppings that fun to look upon, will make you salivate to taste, and stop the car the next time you pass a bakery.

I will build myself a table.

A solid one, of warm wood, from dead trees that once helped me breathe,

and now will lie down, planed smooth to a sheen,

with my babes all around.

For “our table” was really “her table” and so returns to him,

locked away from me now,

and I will not wait.
I see all things, even old things, pass away.

And blessedly, there can be made new, at the dawn of another life.

It will be my table, from my hands,

and that of my father.

It will help me to breathe.

So I will gather them to it, my babies, my loves,

and set flowers upon the center,

and never a cloth….

For old trees are aged and speak if you listen;

tell of knots and scars and lines on it’s face,

just like I have on mine.

So I will build myself a table,

and invite you to sit.

And we’ll breathe and eat and laugh and love.

Dead trees have new lives, and so shall I.

All three of the houses I’ve bought and lived in during my marriage sit vacant and on the housing market at the same time.

It’s as if my history, present, and future are one giant loose end, sitting silently and open, awaiting some kind of life-breathing inhabitation to direct their course.

I have noticed recently a little popularity trend regarding cupcakes….Katie Holmes has been quoted often about her love of cupcakes, even buying them for the whole crew on one of her movies. Katie Holmes being who she is of course, Mrs. Tom Cruise, she has egads of followers and so the little cupcake now reguarly makes appearances in the celebrity tabloid magazines (yes, I read them). Earlier this year I went to a friend’s beach house and in a white bakery box was a selection of truly gourmet cupcakes…these were not the yellow and white nasties offered in grocery stores, with their pyramids of shortening-and-sugar gloppy frosting and preservative-laden day old cake bases. Each one was a tribute to some larger version of itself…a whole cake…and someone had taken great care to make each one a miniature masterpiece. My friends there cut them in pieces so we could each savor the different flavors…these were not for inhaling and wiping one’s mouth on the back of our sleeves!

Even the word, “cupcake” is sweet. Sweet enough to become a woman’s nickname, a term of endearment. It’s got to be one of the smiliest desserts…”cheesecake” sounds rich, “pie” sounds homey, “creme brulee” sounds difficult. But say “cupcake” and I think of yellow and white gingham, aprons, freckles, picnics, kisses that make noses bump and faces giggle…

Maybe cupcakes in their tiny simplicity and bliss is sort of the antithesis of where I “am” right now. And maybe that’s exactly the reason I woke up today wanting one…specifically, a chocolate one with chocolate frosting…real, cocoa-y, buttery. Uh, I also wanted it served with a margarita for breakfast, which is also probably a symptom of where I am right now, but nevermindthat.

Cupcakes’ renewed popularity has worked to it’s favor. There are now blogs devoted to cupcakes, their history, recipes, photos, and frosting choices. Websites offering them for weddings (my friend recenly had beautiful cupcakes at his wedding), birthdays, graduations…major events that used to, without hesitation, use full-sized cakes. And no longer is your cupcake choice to take a box cake mix and just choose the muffin tin option…recipes are designed to make them from scratch with ease.

I found a yellow buttermilk cupcake recipe that we had all the ingredients for, and a cream cheese chocolate frosting recipe I thought I’d give a try. Unlike my usual “dump it all in the mixer and go” style for baking/cooking/loading my van, I decided to be more ritualistic about it today. I measured. And, I mixed my dry separately and my liquids in another bowl. Wait, wait…it gets better! I also skipped the elecric mixer and put in my “200 strokes by hand”.

Okay, forgive the enthusiasm. I watched Waitress this week, a FANTASTIC movie that sometimes hit a little too close to home, I didn’t want to see end, and included pie making scenes that would drive any woman to the kitchen to make food with deliberate joy. Watch it…you won’t be sorry.

So anyway, back to the cupcakes. I halved the recipe I found because we don’t need to overeat to enjoy baking, and they rose beautifully and quickly. They cooled quickly too. I think the whole mix-to-bake-to cool and frost took under 45 minutes for 1 dozen cupcakes.

To frost them, I swirled them upside down in the bowl. I’ve kind of always wanted to do that, having seen it on a cooking show about 15 years ago. It worked pretty well. I got even coverage, with only a few dabs with the spatula needed here and there. To that I added sprinkles and a little flower.

The result was yummy but could have been better. The cream cheese in the frosting competes with the buttermilk in the cake too much; a pure cocoa frosting would have been a better choice. The cake itself was soft and I had more than one creative idea strike me while I was working with them.

Favorite tip: use a ladle to scoop batter into your papers. Zero mess.

Here’s the recipe I used:

Buttermilk Cupcakes:

makes 12

2c. flour

1 t. baking powder

1 t. baking soda

3/4 t. salt

1 c. sugar

1 c. butter, softened

1 t. vanilla

2 eggs

1c. buttermilk

Mix dry. Mix wet. Blend. pour. bake at 350.

Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting:

makes enough to modestly frost 12 cupcakes, plus have some left for dipping pretzles into later!

1/2 stick butter, softened

1/2 block cream cheese, softened

about a cup of powdered sugar

about 1/2 cup of cocoa (okay, I didn’t measure that part; add in intervals and taste till you’re happy)

We must live our lives in the fullness of our being, which requires that we live it in the place of wonder.

From Fr. Stephen’s blog today.

As part of my Living Deliberately Strategies, I’m going to take my list once a month and check to see how I’m doing. It’s too early to do that on the primary list but since I began my Triathlon goal before the new year, I chose today to update my progress on my December goals.

And I’ll take this  opportunity to say a big “thanks” to the great comments I’ve gotten offering advice and encouragement. I appreciate you!

Making the inside match the outside and vise versa is how real change occurs over time. One can not simply decide to wear size 6 clothing unless they’ve done the work to become a size 6 and likely have started to think like a size 6. And one will remain poor and in debt if their inner thoughts are that of a poor, self-defeatist thinker, which leads to making poor, self-defeating choices, which leads to a continuation of the cycle. John Assaraf’s latest post on the why new year’s resolutions often fail drives the point home this week and I thought it worth sharing.

Over recent weeks we’ve seen quite a few new foods come our way, each their own little adventure. One of my Living Deliberately goals for the year is to get back to whole foods, Nourishing Traditions foods, and from that lifestyle/book there are many things I’ve yet to try. Not all the new foods I’ve had this winter would qualify as a traditional food in the ancient sense but all have been really fun! In fact, there hasn’t been a dud in the bunch.

Nourishing Tradition’s Cassoulet (French Bean Casserole), made with goat and duck. I usually make this with beef and chicken, not having access to the lamb and duck it calls for. But we had homegrown goat meat available and at christmas, ducks are in most stores. That led to a holiday Cassoulet, that rich, ney almost decadent, dinner casserole that begs for a dry wine and crust of bread. I was honestly nervous about goat meat and skeptical of the growing goat market that led my friend to raise them for meat in the first place. But the Cassoulet has a lot of mingling of flavors…you saute onion and celery, soak beans, add spices, and top it with sausage and cheese. I honestly could not tell the tender goat meat from beef roast.

Duck meat, which became three meals: We (my friend and I) purchased the long, skinny duck, thinking we’d only use it for the Cassoulet. But that night we needed an easy dinner and the duck was thawed, so we roasted it. I cut the legs and thighs away for the Cassoulet and we had the rest for that night’s dinner. Much like chicken’s dark meat, my friend felt there wasn’t enough difference with it to buy it again. And at elevated prices, maybe not. But I liked how it was sweeter than chicken; I could see why it’s usually topped with a fruit glaze of some sort. It was fattier (which makes it a good choice for Cassoulet) and tastier. A little went a long way in the satisfaction department. That led to a Duck Carcass, which we threw into the stock pot and simmered overnight with a ton of veggies. The result was a rich duck broth that became soup two days later.

Moose Stew: Game is a traditional food that our mainstream culture has deviated away from for a variety of reasons; availabilty and cultivation ease being two primary ones I’m sure. But my friend also had a good portion of Moose in her freezer! I’m wary of things tasting “gamey” (bad memories of a not-so-great serving of venison as a child) so the same Goat-Skepticism repeated itself. I think the cut was a tenderloin, slow cooked with typical stew veggies, spices, and broth. The result? Fall-apart tender meat in a stew that was hearty and filling and I’m not sure I’d have known it wasn’t beef if she hadn’t have told me. It was more flavorful than the beef I’ve been buying in recent years…maybe it had a natural amount of umami ? (which naturally occurs with proteins and does not necessarily need the quick-trip-to umami that MSG provides).

Home Grown pork: My friend also raised pigs and they slaughtered a bunch this past fall. My first night at her house she served pork chops and veggies….typical Americana meal right? Well kinda. Because there was nothing typical about those pork chops! They tastes like the chops of my childhood, meaning the difference could be tasted between them and dried out white-meat chicken! I stopped buying pork a few years ago because it tastes like chicken anyway due to the feeding/leanness of it. “The Other White Meat” is always tasteless and dry. Not these…meaty, “porky” (how does one describe a tender and juicy pork chop, with just the right amount of browned edge?). It was weeknight nirvana.

Kombucha: Okay…weird. On the counter, for weeks at a time, containing two NT baddies: white sugar and black tea, sat two big jars, each topped with some kind of egg-white floaty thing and a sheet of paper towel. This would be Kombucha, a traditional drink in the NT cookbook, that is fermented with a “kombucha mushroom”. This “symbiotic colony of bacteria” starts with a “mother” that grows a “baby” , ferments the tea (not alchoholic), and somehow removes the negative qualities of the sugar and tea. The result is an amazinging refreshing drink that also boosts the immune system and settles nausea. Which, by the way, turned out to be a huge deal because between my friend and I we had 8 children and 3 adults…and over our trip every single one of us took a turn with a 24 hr. puke virus. That’s a lot of vomit. And glasses of Kombucha were invaluable! It really does settle the nausea, keep one hydrated on something better than gatorade, and moves the bug through the system quickly. One nearby Kombucha maker experiments with many teas…his Coconut version was heavenly. He also had a Thai variety and a blueberry. It all depends on the tea chosen. I was won over but alas, I left my “Boocha Baby” behind  accidentally. I think the NT cookbook has a mail order resource.

SUSHI: I saved my hands-down favorite for last. For years I’ve wanted to try sushi but have always been too nervous and intimidated by the price to experiment with alone. The “raw” factor is part of that. On one of my “gosh this a awfully bad and nasty day” holes recently, a friend who knew I needed a hug and a little adventure took me out to a Japenese buffet that had newly opened. It was beautiful…all that fresh food laid out in pretty rows, the Hibachi grill nearby, and warming soup ready to be customized…the entire atmosphere was calming and comforting and exciting at the same time. My friend knew her sushi and guided me through each choice. She taught me the ginger and wasabi methods and I continued to work on my chopsticks mastery, albeit clumsily. And Oh. My. Word. Each bite was utterly fantastic. The white tuna was indeed buttery and soft, just like she said. The spicy roll was bright and had layered flavors that oozed umami most definitely. And I have been surprised at how addictive this stuff seems to be!! I crave sushi almost day now! My mouth waters just at the memory. Each bite so satisfying and fresh and wholesome-feeling; I have wondered and scolded myself more than once for letting it take so long for me to try it. Oh the sushi I have missed! May there be many chances to make up for it!!

Indeed, food recently has been a joy. My children and I have had yummy meals made lovingly by friends who’ve ministered through cuisine, we’ve eaten things in the height of their element and not been disappointed. I learned how to make bacon in the oven, savored local foods ordinarily not available to me, and was happily reminded that being afraid to try something new is usually silly. Take a bite, take a little risk, let your mouth be filled with new flavor. The world opens when you do!