Blue Monday Pie

See that pie?  The one with the crimped, hand made crust?  The one with the mellow meringue?

It embodied all that was wrong my Blue Monday Weekend.  The gawds decided to bat me, my friends and my family around as a cat bats around a paper crumply.  It seemed as if with every BBM bing, every corner I turned, every chair I sat in, every call I took, something happened that would test the patience of Job. I think (I hope) that spate is now over, and we've been flung to safety underneath the cosmic chesterfield, far from the reach of outstretched fully-clawed paws.

I won't go into details, but if I were to declare those four days' key phrases, they would be:

• The majority of bylaw calls are because the complainant is the bad citizen.
• No good deed goes unpunished.
• Mid-life crisis.*
• 2nd-degree burns.**
• Collusion. Emergency Board Meeting. "Sudden" resignations.
• Entitled, bubble-wrapped 20-somethings and 30-somethings.
• Mean girl clique.
• Bobblehead.

That's when I decided to bake a pie.

I found a century-old custard pie recipe I'd never heard of and thought I'd give it a go.  It would have worked...if I were in a better mood.

After more than two hours in a 400F/200C oven, it was slooshier than a community college girl spending her OSAP loan on a Reading Week in Fort Lauderdale and wobblier than a basophobic-aquaphobic-acrophobic crossing the Kotmale Footbridge.

I don't recall how long that (deleted) pie was in the oven, but I decided to call it a day and plop the meringue on top when the now slightly more sober college girl was on the footbridge.

I tasted that pie.  My friend tasted that pie.

My Dear Little Cardamummy has always said she could taste my mood in my cooking.

It wasn't the worst pie in the world.  But it certainly wasn't a good pie.  I'm not sure it was an okay pie.  I'm not even sure it was fully cooked.

The rest of my week went much better (still, there were some residual annoyances, but I think things are sort of on an even keel).  I remade the pie.  It was good.

The recipe will be posted later, but until then, I think I'll have a slice of pie.

*Not mine--according to the usual age my family (on both sides) kick the bucket, I'm not due for another four years.

**Again, not me.


cheers!
jasmine
I'm a quill for hire!

26 years...

...and not forgotten

Geneviève Bergeron (1968–1989), civil engineering student
Hélène Colgan (1966–1989), mechanical engineering student
Nathalie Croteau (1966–1989), mechanical engineering student
Barbara Daigneault (1967–1989), mechanical engineering student
Anne-Marie Edward (1968–1989), chemical engineering student
Maud Haviernick (1960–1989), materials engineering student
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz (1958–1989), nursing student
Maryse Laganière (1964–1989), budget clerk
Maryse Leclair (1966–1989), materials engineering student
Anne-Marie Lemay (1967–1989), mechanical engineering student
Sonia Pelletier (1961–1989), mechanical engineering student
Michèle Richard (1968–1989), materials engineering student
Annie St-Arneault (1966–1989), mechanical engineering student
Annie Turcotte (1969–1989), materials engineering student




jasmine
I'm a quill for hire!

One month to Christmas, I come bearing chocolate gingerbread cake

It feels a bit early for me to start thinking of Christmas. Drifts of research and reports surround me; calendar reminders twinkle on my screen, and it wasn’t too long ago when a hard thump of an icing sugar duster covered my garden with snow. Maybe it’s not too early for me to start thinking of Christmas.

Two things easily get me into the Christmas spirit—music and food.  While I am prone to belting out “Do They Know It’s Christmas” in June, I’m not quite ready to put my Christmas CDs in the mix just yet. The Christmas Pud has been stirred, steamed and safely out of my mother’s reach (really, it’s not hard as she’s 4’10” (maybe)).  While I’m beginning to plan out my baking, it’s hardly a Bing Crosby existence, rumpapumpumming to David Bowie.

Yet.

I used this week's visit with some favourite people to get me further into the festive spirit.  How better than with a cake? Preferably something aromatic that hints at the weeks to come.

I thought the Chocolate Gingerbread Cake from Nigella Lawson’s Feast would be perfect with our tea, as we chat next to a roaring fire. I paired the smoky-rich chocolate spice cake with the salted brown butter caramel icing from Shuna Fish Lydon’s Caramel Cake.  For a bit of texture, amidst all that soft lusciousness, a generous handful of roasted spiced pecans was scattered on top.

By my standards, it’s a sweet enterprise, but all that means is I'll have a smaller slice.   But it is a dark, damp and rich cake, spiced with flavours familiar to the Yuletide season, with the added bonus of chocolate.  And salted caramel.  And crunchy pecans.

A couple of notes about the cake:

• The full cake recipe is enough for two 20cm x 20cm (8"x8") pans, so if you only need a small cake, halve the recipe.
• Instead of treacle, I used cooking molasses, which is a mixture of regular and blackstrap molasses.  My molasses-loving friends liked it, but next time I’ll use a lighter variety.
• For one 20cm x 20cm cake, use about one-third of the icing specified in the recipe (or more, or less, I'm not going to judge).

Ginger spiced roasted pecans

Ingredients:

50g/125ml/0.5c chopped pecans

one heaping teaspoon icing sugar

0.5 tsp ginger powder

cayenne pepper, to taste

pinch salt

water

Method:

Preheat oven to 180C/350F and line a baking tray with parchment or tin foil.

Mix the nuts with the sugar, spices and salt.  Drizzle in enough water so the nuts are coated with a glaze.  Toss the nuts and spread on the prepared baking tray. 

Bake for 10 minutes.  Let cool before sprinkling on the cake.

Recipe Links: 

Nigella Lawson’s Chocolate Gingerbread Cake Recipe

Shuna Fish Lydon’s Caramel Cake Recipe

cheers!
jasmine
I'm a quill for hire!