Spring had Sprung. Yes?

No matter. We still went hunting for snow, even if it meant driving up to the Summit and a short hike in a forest. We were pretty sure the bears were still hibernating.

Armed with snow gears and a snow saucer,

and a red nosed baby all bundled up,

we found what we were looking for.

It didn't matter that a lot of it had melted and there was no good place to sled.

There was snow.

It was like having truckloads of modeling clay.  They started with the base,

then the paunch.

The feet were next.

Up came the tiny head to hold the

hair,

the eyes,

the nose,

 and more hair. The arms stretched out.

Then there was the smile.

Why I'm Blogging Again... and A Recipe For Caramel Sauce

After many months hiatus, I am blogging again because:

• Things are piling up. Clutter surrounds me. There are piles of recipes I want to keep, recipes I want to try, and recipes I want to tweak. Pictures abound: of my family, friends, food, vacations, and old haunts. These pictures are crawling with memories. I won't even bother elaborating on the jumble that is in my head. Instead of dumping everything in a time capsule that I can bury in the backyard, I stake a claim in a little corner of the Internet (as I no longer have a backyard to speak of). In my little blog, which is buried under millions of other food blogs, where nobody can find it but me, I have a receptacle. I dump my clutter in this virtual space, in my "One Bowl" and I stir and season and pop everything in the oven and hit "Publish" and voila: my clutter comes out sorted and labeled. Here, I can pretend that my life is organized and well thought-out. 
• In my blog, I can talk to myself without actually talking to myself. I can indulge in narcissistic dialogues or rave endlessly about my children without extracting an obligation from other people to pretend to listen to me.
• It's a wonderful life and I like to remember it that way. Bad stuff happens and it has a way of clouding good memories, doesn't it? Here, good times are immortalized. Even if I jot down events that are not so very pleasant, it's easier for me to see the silver lining when things are written down and sorted out.
• I want one more reason to cook with Rosalind. That is why I started the blog in the first place.
• A few of days ago, we've discovered Hugh's first tooth! To date, he has two teeth peeking out. Soon, he will be eating what we cook and not too long after that, he will be cooking with us. 

You see, my presence here is out of pure selfishness. I'm not here to share recipes or baking techniques or cooking ideas.  There are millions of other food bloggers out there who do a better job at those things and most likely have more altruistic motives than I do. I am simply keeping a log of what interests me and what is important to me.

But if you happen to get lost in the interweb and happen to stumble upon our humble abode, you are very welcome to come visit and to skim or peruse. If you see a recipe that looks interesting, please try it. If there's a picture of a dessert that you want to try but it looks like I have been too lazy to post a recipe with it, please leave me a comment and I will gladly jot down the recipe for you. Then I'll have a copy for myself too! (See how self-serving I am?) And of course, if any questions arise, ask and I shall try my best to answer.

During my short stint blogging last year, I have come to the conclusion that a personal blog has the capacity to evolve and fulfill multiple functions. Just like my favorite caramel sauce. I've initially made this recipe to top apple pie a la mode and brownie sundaes. Then I've used it to complement various desserts. At some point, I've started flavoring cakes, custards and cheesecakes by directly mixing the caramel in the batter. Recently, Rosalind and I ate my caramel sauce right out of the refrigerator with spoons as we watched a Miss Marple movie marathon. Burnt sugar and butter never tasted so good! Try it. I highly recommend it (the caramel or any Miss Marple movies with Geraldine McEwan).


All Purpose Caramel Sauce

1 stick butter (4 oz or 8 Tablespoons)
1 cups sugar
1 cup cream

Melt the butter in a heavy-bottomed saucepan on medium high heat. Stir frequently with a whisk to keep butter from separating.

As soon as the butter is melted, slowly pour in the sugar while whisking continuously until the butter and sugar are nicely blended.

Brush the sides of the pan with a wet pastry brush to remove sugar crystals.

Let it cook, whisking occasionally. Make sure your whisk is also free of sugar crystals; wash the whisk with warm water if you have to.


Be very careful with this next step because really really hot steam will rise out of the pan and can burn you. As soon as the sugar/butter turns a medium brown color, turn down the heat to low and slowly, little by little, whisk in the cream.

Whisk until smooth and the desired color is reached. Take off the heat. Let it cool. Refrigerate for longer shelf-life. It will thicken in the fridge but it can be quickly warmed up in the microwave or stove top to thin it out. The caramel gets hot pretty fast, just to warn you.

And there you have it. Spoonfuls of heaven.


P.S.
Caramel sauce is a very touchy subject. There are lots of schools out there. Some advocate stirring, some don't. There's a question of when to add the butter: with the sugar or after caramelization or if at all.  Cream or no cream. Dry or wet caramelization. Brushing the sides with water or putting the lid on to steam down the crystals.

This is the sauce I've been using for years. It works for me.

Gaps

In the past 10 months, Rosalind and I baked together just a handful of times. The lull started around Saint Patrick's Day last year when my morning sickness kicked in. The mere thought of chocolate, coffee, beer, or garlic made me ill. How much I dreaded the smell of the restaurant! It didn't help that I would always be the first one to arrive at work. As I opened the kitchen door, I would get a nice big whiff of the compounded stench of garlic, onions, fried food and liquor (that had all been cooped up in an unventilated building for hours). Then the janitors would do their thing and cleaning fumes would eventually smother the smell of stale food and alcohol. What can one do but to put on a brave face and do one's job? I kept it up too, even when my days involved mass producing those Guinness chocolate cakes which involved pounds after pounds of chocolate and pints after pints of beer.

But when I got home, it was a different story. I was on the couch a lot, snoozing or cursing the injustice of the world. I didn't cook or bake. We lived on quesadillas, salads and Subway sandwiches. Rosalind was very understanding. According to her, she had been waiting for a sibling for almost a decade. She would always remind me to take my vitamins and drinks lots of water. She would even bring me Skittles and Mentos from who knows where to combat the nausea.

In a way, the pregnancy distracted her from a looming event that she dreaded: our move to Seattle. Steve was to start a PhD program at the University of Washington. Rosalind was born and bred in Sacramento. She was very attached to her home, her school, her friends and not to mention her cousins, grandparents, aunts, and uncles in California. She also didn't like change. So even with the promise of beaches, museums, plays, and fish and chips or the prospect of two doting aunts and a pretty awesome uncle who live in the Seattle area, she still approached our relocation with foreboding. To top it off, the girl also delighted in melodrama. Her eyes welled up every time "the move" was mentioned. And once or twice, when her "sorrows" overwhelmed her, she would run to her room and lock the door to seek solitude.

One day, after a serious meltdown, she asked me if we could bake something, anything. So I got my butt off the couch and we made these cookies.

They probably were peanut butter sandwich cookies filled with ganache. I don't exactly remember. But I do remember Rosalind letting out a big sigh as I pulled the pan of cookies out of the oven and exclaiming: "Well, that felt good!"

Sometimes we forget the therapeutic effect of routine. With all the uproar, the poor child was craving something normal and familiar and probably some peanut butter chocolate cookies as well. Not too long after that, we made Puffles cupcakes with her friends from school

and mutated Puffles cupcakes with her cousins. (They are too creative to be restricted by directions).

Later in the summer, when we were pretty much settled in our new home in Seattle, Rosalind and I went blackberrying and made a blackberry pie.

And we made lots of peanut butter cookies. Some were cyclops with mega-size peanut butter cups.

Some were filled with ganache.

And then this little guy came along.

Now, who can think of cookies, cakes or pies when you have just fallen head over heels in love?

Well, if one of your favorite people in the world has a birthday celebration, a Snickers cheesecake becomes obligatory. We'll have the recipe for you in an upcoming post.

Happy Birthday Rosalind!!!

Rosalind fell in love with this chocolate peanut butter torte when she first saw it at the auction in February. She requested it for a birthday cake way back then and never has she wavered on that decision. I hope you enjoyed it Babycakes! We saved you a piece Becky.

All According to Plan

Vanilla Bean Cheesecake




Irish Cream Cheesecake





Cookies!!!




Chocolate Mousse Cake




Carrot Cake




Black and White Cake




Coconut White Chocolate Cake




Peanut Butter Chocolate Cheesecake





Chocolate Turtle Cheesecake




Cashew Tart

10 Desserts for the Crab Feed

So here are all the ingredients for the desserts I'm donating to be auctioned off at a fundraising event this Saturday for Steve's work. As a consequence of my succumbing to some kind of flu earlier this week (happily, I am now germ-free), I don't have much time to prep. Time is of the essence, so my goal is to stick to my list and not complicate things by my sudden whims.

All has been decided and this is what it's going to be.

1. Irish Creme Cheesecake
2. Vanilla Bean Cheesecake
3. Peanut Butter Cheesecake Torte
4. Turtle Cheesecake
5. Carrot Cake
(Hence, 18 pounds of cream cheese smack in the middle of the picture.)
6. White Chocolate Coconut Cake
7. Chocolate Mousse Cake
8. Black and White Cake
9. Cashew Tart
10. Assortment of Cookies

Hearts

Shortbread hearts with chocolate glaze


President's Day weekend, usually one of the slowest times at the restaurant, turned out to be one of the busiest weekends we've had in a long time. The reason, of course, is that it coincided with Valentine's Day.

When I left the restaurant kitchen earlier this evening, things were starting to heat up. Dozens of ticket orders lined up to be filled. Voices were starting to go up. Dirty dishes were piling up in the dish room. The lead cook was already screaming for clean saute pans. Servers and bussers were hustling to and fro.

As I passed through the kitchen door to the dining room, I noticed one of my favorite servers carrying the dessert tray to a table. The lights were dimmed. There was soft music in the background. Couples conversed in low voices. Nobody could hear the noises nor feel the chaos permeating throughout the kitchen, which was how it was supposed to be.

Unless you work in a restaurant, it's difficult to fully appreciate the turmoil that comes with cooking for 500 people in the course of 6 hours. I don't know too many cooks who don't look forward to the clamor and commotion. A decade ago, when I was a line cook, it was almost like a drug. My energy level would hit the ceiling and at the end of the night, I was exhausted beyond comprehension yet I felt alive and satisfied.

Being a baker, I usually don't take part in all the chaos. I leave work as it starts. But then I start work early in the morning, even before the cleaning crew comes, so I just surmise how the rest of the night fared by the ravages my coworkers left behind.

Happy Holidays!