Blogger Recognition

Today’s post is meant to thank the wonderful bloggers who have recognized me, linked to me or gifted me!

As someone who doesn’t normally win anything, I’ve been delighted to have won two blog giveaways in the past month. First, Angela Ackerman, of the terrific writing blog The Bookshelf Muse, co-sponsored a contest with several other bloggers and I was lucky enough to win three signed books by author Tina Ferraro.  If you’re a writer, don’t miss The Bookshelf Muse.  Angela regularly posts informative and unique tips about writing – not an easy thing to do.   I'm looking forward to reading Tina's books over the holidays!

And on Monday, I found out that I’d won a second giveaway, this one from Jess at Falling Leaflets.  Jess is incredibly tuned into the writers’ blogging community, and generously shares this information with her readers.  Her links on the right-hand side of her blog include almost everything you’d need to know to write a manuscript.  Honing your craft, how to write a memorable character, building tension – it’s all there.

Thanks to Angela, Tina and Jess for their generosity!

I’d also like to thank Emma, of the adorable Sunflower Days, for giving me The Versatile Blogger award.  One of the best parts of blogging is the friends I’ve made from all around the world.  Emma lives in Australia, and I love reading about her changing seasons which are the opposite of mine.  She’s new to blogging, but her posts are always cheerful and informative.  And she takes the loveliest photographs.  Check her out!

Finally, for those of you who remember my Orange Chocolate birthday cake, I’m thrilled to say that it was reprinted on the Florida Citrus Growers website. Thanks to Rebecca of Chow and Chatter for submitting the recipe, and to Ina Garten who inspired it!

A Christmas Reunion

Last night was our annual Baker/Woolner family Christmas reunion.  With a maiden name of Baker, it was probably pre-determined that I’d eventually blog about my desserts.  (The title of Most Talented Baker of the family, however, goes to my cousin Ruth Anne, who has won Baking Queen honours at both the Rodney and Wallacetown fall fairs.)

My mother's farm, taken from the house

My sister and I live in the Toronto area, and my cousins each live on a farm near where I grew up in southwestern Ontario.  So we really treasure the times that we’re all together.  And as so often happens, after we talked about our kids, our spouses and the weather, we got on the topic of food.

Those of you who’ve been following my blog since the beginning will remember that my first post was about my Grandma Baker’s gingersnap cookies.  No matter how many cookie recipes I try, these will probably always be my favourites.  Gwen and Judy both remembered her oatmeal cookies as being the best.  But we all remembered Grandma pulling the cookies out of the freezer when we came to visit, from the bread bags in which she stored them.

Opinion was divided on why she kept them in the freezer.  Maybe it was to keep them longer.  Maybe she preferred the taste of frozen cookies.  Carol suggested it might have been to keep them out of the sight and mind of Grandpa Baker.  Carol does the same to keep her cookies out of the sights, if not the minds, of her three tall sons.

She may be right.  When I make these muffins, I’d be best freezing them, if only to keep them out of my husband’s sight.  It’s a Dorie Greenspan recipe that was adapted by Valerie on the fabulous blog, Pixie Baker.  The only major change I made to Valerie’s version was using a cup of brewed chai tea instead of the coffee.  I’m not a coffee drinker, and I thought the gentle spice of the tea worked perfectly with the muffins.

I know my dad would have liked these muffins.  Today would have been his 79^th birthday.  Although he’s been gone for over twenty-four years, it means a lot to me that I’m still blessed with the company of his sister, my Aunt Lois, and her wonderful family.

Streusel Muffins with Maple Glaze
(from Dorie Greenspan, by way of Pixie Baker)

Streusel ingredients:

½ cup all purpose flour

½ cup packed dark brown sugar

½ tsp ground cinnamon

5 Tbsp butter (cold and cut into bits)

Muffin ingredients:

2 cups all purpose flour

1/3 cup sugar

1 Tbsp baking powder

½ tsp ground cinnamon

¼ tsp kosher salt or sea salt

1/3 cup packed dark brown sugar

1 cup brewed chai tea (cooled)

½ cup (1 stick) melted butter (cooled)

1 egg

½ tsp vanilla extract

Maple glaze:

¾ cup sifted icing sugar

6 Tbsp pure maple syrup

Method

To prepare the streusel, put the flour, brown sugar and allspice in a small bowl and whisk to blend.  Add the bits of cold butter and toss to coat, then work the butter into the dry ingredients until you’ve got irregularly shaped crumbs.  Cover and refrigerate while you make the muffins.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Butter or line a regular sized muffin tin (twelve muffins) and set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon and salt.  Stir in the brown sugar, making certain that there are no lumps.  In another bowl, whisk the tea, melted butter, egg and vanilla extract together.  Pour the liquid ingredients over the dry ingredients and stir the mixture just until blended.  (Do not overmix.)  Divide the batter evenly among the muffin cups.

Sprinkle the streusel mixture over each muffin, gently pressing into the batter.

Bake for 16 – 20 minutes or until a knife inserted into the centre comes out clean.  Cool muffins for 5 minutes before removing from the tin.

Combine the icing sugar and maple syrup in a medium bowl.  Mix until smooth and drizzle over cooled muffins.

Thursday's Child: Village Markets in Perche

At the Mortagne-au-Perche Saturday morning market

One of the delights of our trip to France was staying in a small rural inn in the quiet district of Perche.  It would be easy to overlook this small region; after all, it lacks the majestic chateaux of the Loire Valley, the fabulous vineyards of Burgundy and the aspirational lifestyle of Provence.  And most people drive straight through Perche from Paris to one of the other well-known French destinations. 

But, having decided to spend three nights in the region, we were amazed at the undiscovered beauties of Perche.   And one of those delights was the village market.  Every village, no matter how tiny, had a weekly market, and we were fortunate that our travels matched up with a few of them.

Every French market has a glorious array of flowers

Shallots and squash melons for sale 

Illiers-Combray is the hometown of author Marcel Proust.  We walked through the market several times while we were searching for the home of Proust's Aunt Leonie, and for a bakery that made madeleines.  We found Aunt Leonie's home and beautiful garden, and we ate our madeleines, but the tiny market in the village square was a true pleasure too.

The following day we traveled into Mortagne-au-Perche specifically to see their much larger market.  Every Saturday morning they host a large regional market, selling everything from cider to produce to cheese, eggs and fish.  If we’d been there in March, we could have celebrated their annual Boudin Noir festival!  (That’s black pudding to you and me, folks.) 

French markets are a way of life.  In North America, we're starting to revisit markets as we recognize the wonderful array of goods that can be bought, and the importance of supporting local providers.  But the concept has never gone out of vogue in France, and locals and tourists stand side-by-side at the stalls making their choices. 

Proud Mother

A few months ago, you may remember me telling you that I don’t make caramel.  What I didn’t tell you was that I don’t have to – because my 16-year old can do it for me.

After our trip to France this summer, she wanted to recreate the caramel macarons that she ate at Laduree.  Laduree is world-renowned for its delicate macarons, and well before we packed our bags, I knew we’d be visiting one of their sumptuous locations. 

We saved Laduree for a final stop on the last day of our trip.  After a week in Normandy, we spent our final night in Paris in a hotel just a couple of blocks away from the Arc de Triomphe.  The Champs Elysees Laduree was packed with fans waiting to buy their favourite treats, and we stood in line for twenty minutes on a rainy August evening making our choices. We dodged raindrops on our way back to the hotel to enjoy them at leisure, and no one loved them more than she did.

Thus, her determination to make them herself when we got home.  Luckily, a few days later, the Globe and Mail published a recipe for caramel.  She improvised the cookie part, but for the caramel centres she went strictly by the book.

Unlike me, she isn’t unnerved by vague directions like “take it off the heat when it turns an amber colour”.  Her caramel was a perfect colour and texture.  The finished product was absolutely delicious – I’d be embarrassed to relate how quickly we finished off those macarons. 

And if I ever get the nerve to make caramel, I know who my tutor will be.

When you make your own macarons, you can put extra caramel
sauce on top, just because you like it that way.

Salted Caramel

(from the Globe and Mail website, Lucy Waverman)

If you want to use the remainder of this mixture for caramel sauce, reheat it and add enough whipping cream to thin it to a pourable consistency.

Ingredients

1 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoon lemon juice

1/2 cup whipping cream, warmed

1 teaspoon sea salt

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

Method

Sprinkle sugar and lemon juice over the bottom of a large frying pan and cook over medium heat, stirring with a wooden spoon or heatproof spatula, until melted. Continue to cook until dark amber, then remove from heat and carefully add cream (it will sputter and pop). Add salt and cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until cream is incorporated. Let cool about 10 minutes, then stir in butter. Cool to room temperature before using. Makes 1 cup.

Link: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/food-and-wine/recipes-making-whoopie-pies/article1680199/print/

Thursday's Child: Markets of Ljubljana

In some ways, Ljubljana is the most perfect little European city we’ve visited.  The capital of Slovenia possesses the glistening canals of Venice, the red roofs of Prague and the pedestrian areas of Istanbul.  But all of this beauty came with virtually no crowds. 

We arrived on a Sunday afternoon, enjoyed the weekend flea market and outdoor musical performances, and marveled that so few others had found this perfect fairy tale town.  Our hotel was in the centre of the city, literally a minute from the pedestrian-only area of bridges, restaurants and stylish buildings.

The following day we visited the town marketplace.  The market, open on weekdays and Saturdays, seemed to cater primarily to residents rather than tourists.  It bustled with crafty locals carefully choosing fruit and vegetables – and a few hearty travelers carefully practicing their few memorized Slovenian phrases.

In the covered stalls, a few small shops sell cheese, meat and household goods.  The market sits a few feet from the glorious Ljubljanica river and its lovely pedestrian bridges.

Of course, there were a few touristy stalls in the marketplace, and the occasional tourist felt the need to pose by them:

How I know my husband loves my baking

This is an unusual time of year to post a recipe for Kentucky Derby Pie, but I like being ahead of the crowd (or behind the crowd, depending on how you look at it).  It’s another one of those recipes that my Dad copied down while listening to WJR radio when I was a kid, and it was one of my favourites when I was growing up.

Kentucky Derby Pie is now one of my own family’s favourites, and I don’t limit it to May.  It’s especially good on the second day when the chocolate has had a chance to set.  On the first day it’s tasty but still quite runny, and wouldn’t photograph well at all.

So here was the plan.  I knew I couldn’t get my family to ignore the pie for a whole day, so I told them at dinner that we’d eat half the pie that night, then I’d let the rest sit in the fridge so I could photograph it the following day.

I thought I had full agreement.  But apparently the enthusiastic nods I received were in response to the first half of my sentence. 

I came downstairs the next morning to find that a KDP fan had been eating away at the pie.  But not in the regular way, where someone trims off a slice from one side.  No, he (for we all knew who the culprit was) had scooped pie out of the middle somewhat in the shape of an oversized doughnut hole.  I was left with a narrow rim of pie to photograph.

The girls shared my dismay:

Daughter #1:  Dad!  Mom told you she wanted to take a picture for her blog!

Culprit:  Mmmmm.  I don’t think she said anything to me.

Daughter #2:  Dad!  We were all at the dinner table when she told us.

Culprit:  Hmmmm.  Are you sure I was there?

Present me with a challenge and I will solve it.  Ergo, the following photo:

Notice the three narrow strips of pie shaped together to simulate a single, regular-shaped piece.

Even more beautiful when the cracks are hidden by ice cream:

And indeed, the pie did taste fabulous the second day – what was left of it.

Kentucky Derby Pie

2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup flour
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup chopped pecans
1/2 cup melted butter, slightly cooled
2 tsp vanilla
one pie shell (use your favorite recipe)

Combine eggs, sugar, flour, chocolate chips, pecans, butter and vanilla.  Pour into unbaked pie shell.  Bake at 350 degrees for 30 to 35 minutes.  Cool for at least four hours before eating, preferably overnight.

Thursday's Child: Markets of Marrakech

In December, I’ll be writing about some of the great markets of the world.  Four of these we’ve visited, and one is on my wish list!

I’ll always remember Marrakech as a city of the senses.  I’ve never visited a place that I remember the sounds, smells, looks and tastes of more than Marrakech.  And the markets, or souks, were the perfect microcosm of that. 

Although we’re independent travelers and usually prefer to see places on our own, we hired a guide in Marrakech.  The souks, each one devoted to a specialty, are a bit of a maze, and trying to maneuver our own way would have been difficult. 

The dyers’ souk was a spectacle of colours.  Swags of cloth were suspended from poles that criss-crossed narrow alleyways.  Enormous carts of vividly coloured materials sat waiting to be spun into carpets.  And bolts of cloth lay, floor to ceiling, awaiting purchase by eager buyers.  In the back of one stall, bowls of unmixed pigments were ready to be mixed with water to dye a bundle of headdresses.

Almost as brilliant, and wonderfully fragrant, was the spice market.  Row after row of sacks brimmed with saffron, cumin, paprika and other brilliantly-hued spices.  For someone like me, who loves to cook, it was almost impossible to walk by these stalls without imagining the bounty I could create, sparked by such a rush of inspiration.

Of course, negotiations are a big part of the shopping experience.  My older daughter, twelve at the time and clutching a fistful of dirhams (the Moroccan currency), wanted to participate in that, too.  She enjoyed bargaining for a cushion until the transaction became overwhelming, owing to the eagerness of the vendor and her inexperience.  We were able to step in at the end and help her negotiate a lovely yellow cushion that still adorns her bedroom.

The metalworkers’ souk was filled with intricately-shaped lamps dangling from the ceilings. In the chemist souk, we visited a professional-looking and tidy booth stocked with bottles of various shapes and hues that promised to heal any ailment. We only saw a slice of these sprawling markets and won’t forget them soon.