Sheri Do-over: During yesterday’s time in the kitchen, I was reminded again of several important life lessons. 1. Life is short. (Brendee’s post today illustrates that so well) 2. People matter most. 3. The power of laughter-especially at ourselves-can never be overestimated. In our family, this new year has been about change and renewal. I decided to ‘clear out’ things in my house, get more organized, and have been working at that. Unfortunately for my task at hand, I began at the top of my house and my efforts have not yet reached my kitchen. My closet is in great shape. I could take Sheri Dew in there (I might have to blind fold her as we went through the library with its teetering stacks of books) and we could try on shoes and talk about self-esteem and think on the symbolism of leaving at least one shelf empty. Since I finished in the closet, I keep going in there more myself, breath in the air of change, enjoy the zen feeling of a room renewed. But then I have to go live in the rest of the rooms. . . So as I prepared for baking yesterday, I really was wishing my kitchen had been ‘zen’ed. We are in that stage where teenagers often do the dishes– which is a blessing, I know– but they do not like to put things back in the same place twice. As I looked for things like bottoms to spring form pans, I got answers like “I’ve never seen anything like that -I don’t think we even have those,” and “Maybe that is the thing we used to dig the snow cave?” along with other helpful advisements (“Why don’t you use the bundt pan?”). I tried not to feel like ‘No one gets me-‘ which is easy to think when there are mostly males around. The one female in my home was not a lot of help in this endeavor either. Ailsa loves camping. Mt Baldy can never come soon enough for her. In the meantime, she makes forays through the house with backpacks–and she likes to load them up with bread (often whole loaves) and cheese and an assortment of my kitchen equipment. Things go missing all the time. Yesterday it was one of the whisk attachments to the electric mixer. . . Perfectly whipped egg whites are supposedly the key to making great cakes. It is not just Julia Child who says this (though I still say she is the coolest–she lived abroad, she loved food and adored her husband, and Meryl Streep played her in a movie. Can it get any better?) But after all my searching I had one whisk only. So I just paired it with one of the heavy metal ones and hoped for the best. I will let the photos speak for themselves. I killed the whisk attachment, along with the electric mixer. I turned out several cakes with LOTS of ingredients which did not look like cakes. This is not exaggerated for the sake of the story. There is a photo of the one I served Treighton for his birthday. In my defense, the batter really tasted great. I had thoughts about taking a bowl of that really great tasting batter with me tonight instead, and trying to turn it into an object lesson. I am quite certain Sheri Dew loves object lessons. . . The cake was so heavy it most resembled a round chocolate brick. I did not even bother making the ganache for it–I slathered it with (hope Paula will appreciate this) a can of Betty Crocker frosting, threw in thirteen candles, and we sang over it. (We had just eaten take-out for dinner; wonder why?). And here is the best part. It was seriously unedible. Even Aiden, who is in that fabulous five year old stage where I am his hero and everything I do is complimented. “Mom-you are the best. I love everything you cook. This is the best meal I have ever had.” I hear this-and record it for later-almost every day. Even over macaroni and cheese. This is my very favorite childhood stage, and my last child is nearing the end of it. I have cherished it. And last night he said, “What is wrong with this cake? It does not even taste like cake. It tastes like a really bad cookie with frosting on it-“ We all sat around and laughed–except Ailsa, who took a bite and cried, which made us laugh all the harder. Most memorable birthday cake ever. I like to rise to a challenge (no pun intended). Like Tana reminded me, I can make a good poppy seed bundt cake when it is called for–but I really would love to learn how to make a proper gourmet layer cake, luscious enough to melt in your mouth. But it is clearly something which takes time. Someday I will master the layer cake. And when I do, I will name my version of it after Sheri Dew and will quietly (and anonymously) deliver one to her house. In the meantime, I am having one more go of it today. I am armed with a new mixer and more ingredients, but I also have the baking powder out on the counter, just in case. And if it does not go well, I have a good bakery in Layton on speed dial-
Posted on: Thu, 06 Mar 2014 17:13:43 +0000
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