Better Late Than, You Know, Never. Or Something.

I think this happens every NaBloPoMo - I reach a point where I just don't have anything to say but I keep going nonetheless.  Today's news is that I made chili, with lamb and black beans.  It is (a) the first time I have made chili, and (b) the first time I've cooked anything with lamb in it. I think it turned out okay on both counts, so I'm counting that as success even if I didn't win the ward chili cookoff.

It's still Saturday in California...

"California Girls," Beach Boys

E is for Easter (and That's Good Enough for Me)

"We All Need Saving" - BYU Vocal Point

After a cross country move, I got to attend a church Girl's Camp in California when I was 11 (almost 12).  Camp Liahona was a wonderful experience, as it brought together girls from several congregations, ages 12-18, for outdoor activities, crafts, and hiking.  Each year, you would get to go on a progressively longer hike.

The fourth year hike, when I was 14 or 15, was a 17 mile hike in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.  Our plan was to hike up to the campsite and stay there for a few days and then hike back.  This meant that we had to carry everything with us - food, mess kits, sleeping bags, clothes, etc.  We had those big, official hiking backpacks filled with stuff to carry up - some of it our individual stuff, some of it for everyone.

If you knew me, you would know that I am not the best hiker - in other words, not in great physical shape.  But I knew this hike was coming, and I honestly did try to prepare.  I bought new hiking boots and broke them in taking walks around a loop through a nearby development that went up and down a mountainside.  I weighed in with my backpack to make sure it wasn't too heavy.

Feeling pretty good, I set off with the group on the morning of the hike.  Very quickly, it became apparent that I was the slowest hiker of the group.  I fell far behind, and when the group would stop for a rest, I would catch up just in time for them to be ready to go.  Kind leaders stayed behind to help me, sharing water when my canteen ran out and providing encouragement in difficult parts of the uphill climb.  The scenery was beautiful and provided a respite during the moments we stopped.

After what seemed like years (probably just a few hours), we were almost there.  All that remained was one last, steep hill.  As I recall, it was only about three-fourths of a mile.  However, I had reached the end of my rope, and simply didn't know if I could make it.  Blisters had formed, and I was very very tired.  Suddenly, a pig-tailed girl appeared, running down the hill.  It was my friend "Jane" - she had already finished the hike, but knew that I was still coming, and she had run down to take my backpack from me so that I could make it to the top.

This simple experience means a lot to me (I'm tearing up as I write this).  Jane had already reached the top.  She could have rested, or gone swimming, or had something to eat.  Instead, she turned around to save me in a moment of extreme need.  To me, this is the Atonement of Christ.  Jesus has gone on before, but turns back to help and save us in our moments of despair and desperation.  Easter is a beautiful time to remember his sacrifice of love for each of us.  Easter is not about bunnies, or chocolate, or Easter egg hunts.  It is about the promise of a new beginning - a rescue from our fever blistered journey along life's path that seems arduous.Easter is about triumph after tragedy, hope after helplessness, and victory after vanquishment.    I'm grateful to know that Christ is Risen, He is Risen Indeed!  I hope we can find the beauty in the journey, be grateful for those who help us along the way, and Always remember Christ.


Okay, maybe Easter is a little bit about chocolate:

My Easter Cake (yes, sometimes I like to pretend like I am five years old)

Christmas Cheer

It would always seem to hit unexpectedly.  Suddenly there would be mounds of delicious rolls, ziploc bags, Christmas bows, and a delicious smell of baking bread emanating from the house.  Our kitchen would take on an assembly line mentality.  It was time to deliver Christmas rolls!  My mom makes the best homemade rolls on this planet (I know this with every fiber of my being).  As long as I can remember, there would be a night of deliveries of a dozen fresh homemade rolls each to friends and neighbors around Christmas time.

In the house that I grew up in, there was a holly bush, and I remember standing in the cold with scissors to snip bits of holly to adorn the deliveries.  When we were littler and cuter (and terrible singing was therefore more easily forgiven) we got to carol amidst our deliveries.  We delivered to neighbors, ward members, piano teachers, and my dad's co-workers.  There's something about it that feels so home-y and warm, even though it's organizational chaos coordinating who is going to which houses and deciding who makes the cut - we can't deliver rolls to everyone!  Although sometimes it feels like we try.

So anyway, I love that about Christmas - the deliveries and sharing that take place!  In a small way I got into the Christmas spirit with a meager three pans of rolls today (chump change).  I hope someday to be as awesome as my mom and as generous with my time and talents.

Joy

Here's my message of the day - find Joy.  I love the word JOY because it implies more than transitory happiness or contentment.  It implies that you have found something you treasure and hold dear.  Find the joy that lasts.

For me, baking is joy.  Here are some cupcakes I baked today for a friend's birthday.  Purple ones are chocolate, light pink ones are strawberry, and dark pink ones are red velvet.  

Of Wooden Spoons

As has been established, I really love to bake. Today, in order to mix up banana bread, I used a wooden spoon. Now that I live with a roommate who has a Kitchenaid mixer, I hardly ever use wooden spoons. However, I really like it! There is something basic and elemental about a wooden spoon. A wooden spoon really helps get the job done - I love the feeling of whipping up the contents of a bowl of banana bread, a ton of bread dough, or a batch of brownies.

I guess it makes me feel connected to my pioneer ancestors. According to wikipedia, wooden spoons have been used in cooking at least since 250 BC (the entry also contains the helpful definition that a wooden spoon is "a spoon made from wood"). That's pretty awesome that a utensil has endured that long, and still holds a vital place in the modern kitchen.

While there may be no real reason to use a wooden spoon in today's world of modern conveniences, I feel like a wooden spoon is a good example of the kind of "ordinary" Latter-day Saint that makes the church work. We may look ordinary and feel run-of-the-mill, but when you really want to get a job done, there is nothing more sturdy and hardy. Latter-day Saints, when working with the Spirit of God, can accomplish miracles (in this analogy, we'll have to assume delicious banana bread is a miracle). I know that God has enough power (like a Kitchen-aid mixer) to do his own work, but he lets us participate.

Lately, I've been thinking about this: One of the many "fruits" of the gospel is the people it creates - kind, good, EXTRA-ordinary people. The gospel softens hearts and changes minds. Gospel truth lifts us and makes us better tools in the service of God. Wooden spoons can be used to stir hot things without transferring heat - a good example of the heat we may be called to pass through as members of the church. Yet the true saints endure. They may be counted ordinary, and undervalued by the world at large. Yet, somehow, through it all, the gospel bowl is brim-ful of wooden spoons - extraordinary people - true saints who lift and love others, and that is one of the things I love about this church. People who, incidentally, are also very generous with their baked goods.

Maybe someday, I'll blog about my other favorite kitchen utensil: a super spatula. Don't know if I'll relate it to the gospel.

Girly vs. Girl Power

Sometimes I wonder if I'm "girly" enough to be a girl. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy at least one aspect of girliness: I love to bake.* But, I hate shopping. I don't like make-up. Dressing up in pretty clothes annoys me, I would rather be in jeans (or sweats). Pink is my LEAST favorite color. For me, doing my hair means washing it on a regular basis. Though I love themed earrings for occasions (Halloween Skeletons!), bling is kind of gross - I am not a fan of huge diamonds or flashy metals. Before writing this post, I double checked, and I don't currently own any perfume.

Yet culture expects us girls to love pink, covet jewelry, make ourselves beautiful** by applying paint and chemicals to our faces, wear skirts, etc. Why does society expect these things of me simply because I lack an Y chromosome? One of the aspects of my version of feminism is that we get to choose what we want. IF girls really do want those things, that's great - good for them. It's not my cup of tea, but I don't mean to disparage these pursuits if others enjoy them. Feminism means girls get to choose. It also means "society"/"culture" should grow up and stop labeling things as girly and expect every girl to act alike.

*Full disclosure: I loved, and still love dolls, so I guess that's pretty "girly."
**Side note: ugly women are expected to wear make up but not ugly men

Trying New Things

I had my first fondant experience today. For those of you who don't know what fondant is, basically it is a type of frosting used by cake decorators on wedding cakes and other highly decorated cakes. Fondant can be rolled out and shaped and manipulated into all kinds of different stuff. The downside is that fondant tastes terrible (which is why you'll want real frosting in between the layers of your cake). For my friend's birthday party on Saturday night, I was assigned to bring the cake, and since I had Friday off I decided to make it a good one. The theme was books and chocolate. Can you guess what shape my cake was in?

To start with, I baked a yummy chocolate cake (well, multiple cakes - you'll see). Here is a four layer cake, with fluffy white frosting in-between:

Then I cut out fondant for the outside of the cake, this involved a rolling pin, rulers, and a pizza cutter:

To make it clear that this was a birthday cake, you need a message, obviously:
Overall, it turned out pretty well, hopefully you can guess what it's supposed to look like?


While I like trying new things, this was definitely an exhausting exercise - perhaps not to be repeated.

Adventures in Baking

I was pondering the other day that we don't do much "hands-on" stuff in our culture anymore. America was built by farmers clearing trees, by cowboys herding cattle, by pioneers building wagons and moving west, people having the vision to build skyscrapers and automobiles, Texans drilling for oil, etc. All these jobs had a certain degree of risk of injury and/or death.

Now, I spend my working day staring at a computer screen, with the greatest physical harm I'm likely to encounter being hurt eyes from staring at my screen too long. Americans generally are less likely to be employed in manufacturing jobs and more likely to be in the service sector. I don't know that I necessarily regret this, because I'm a wimp and I don't think I would do well on the frontier or walking the Oregon trail.

However, one "hands-on" thing that I love to do is bake. It's true that you can buy a cake at the store and it tastes delicious, but there's something about cracking open the eggs and mixing it up that makes it more enjoyable. I love to try baking new things. Sometimes this works well and other times it can be disastrous. This weekend I baked, and wanted to share pictures and a few recipes with you!

Banana bread (for some reason this loaf looked horrible, but I promise it tasted delicious):

My favorite banana bread recipe is on the Diana's Kitchen website (and no, I'm not affiliated with the site, but it does have some good recipes). I like it without the nuts, tho. Some tips for good banana bread: bake at 325 degrees to increase moistness and DON'T put too much flour in!

(I love the way banana bread looks)

Cinnamon rolls for the local pool party/fundraiser:
I'll have to do a separate post sometime on how much I love bread baking.

and, Coconut Cake for a church luau:

This recipe was really good, I may have to add it to my favorites!

COCONUT CREAM CAKE
(18.25 ounce) package white cake mix

3 eggs

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1 cup water

1/2 teaspoon coconut extract

1 (14 ounce) can coconut cream (I had no idea where to find this in the grocery store - for good reason! Turns out my grocery store keeps it in the wine aisle as it's a popular drink ingredient)

1 (14 ounce) can sweetened condensed milk

1 cup heavy whipping cream

1 tablespoon white sugar

1 cup flaked coconut

DIRECTIONS

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour a 9x13 inch pan.
2. In a large bowl, mix together cake mix, eggs, oil, water and coconut flavoring. Beat for 2 minutes and pour into 9x13 inch pan. Bake for 30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the cake comes out clean.
3. In a medium bowl, combine coconut cream with sweetened condensed milk and stir until smooth. When cake comes out of the oven, poke holes into it in even rows using a large fork or chopsticks. Pour milk mixture over, allowing it to soak into the cake. Refrigerate for several hours or overnight.
4. In a large bowl, whisk cream until soft peaks form. Add sugar and continue whipping until stiff. Spread over cooled cake. Sprinkle top with flaked coconut.

And speaking of "hands on," I wondered why my cream in #4 did not form soft peaks, but instead was watery. I learned today that I had made a grave tactical error in whipping my cream - I had used a hand whisk, but you need to use an electric mixer to get real homemade whipped cream. My parents laughed at me, because no one knows how to make whipped cream any more! Lesson learned.

The only part of baking I don't love: clean-up.