Fancy chocolate cake

I had fun with this fancy chocolate cake for my sister Lisa's birthday. The cake itself is a chocolate sheet cake, soaked with raspberry frangelico sauce, then rolled with milk chocolate ganache. The cake is then iced with dark chocolate-raspberry-hazelnut ganache and decorated with rasperries.









I love how rolling the sheet cake and standing the roll on end made the layers vertical!

Pane Carasau (Sardinian Flatbread)

One of the best things about living in Oakville was being able to walk to Boffo’s, where I could buy gorgeous handmade parchment breads in a variety of flavours – rosemary, thyme, parmesan, garlic, basil. These are gently salty, crisp and herby, and the mere idea of the hand labour that goes into mixing, rolling each bread paper thin and baking gave them a mystique that I couldn’t resist. I’ve wanted to learn to make them for years, but I was so sure they would be way too much work!
But they aren’t hard – they are in fact incredibly easy!

I understand this particular flatbread originates in Sardinia, and was eaten by shepherds. Not sure I care, really, as I am more concerned about whether such goodies are going to be eaten by me.

This recipe makes about 10 breads, 10-12 inches in diameter – if you roll them really, really thin. If you don’t have the patience to make them truly paper thin, make 8 breads instead.

Ingredients:

1/2 cup semolina
1/2 cup all purpose unbleached flour
Chopped fresh rosemary (or thyme, basil, tarragon, parmesan, garlic etc)
3 oz hot water, from tap
a little pile of sea salt sea salt
olive oil

 Equipment: rolling pin, pizza stone, pastry brush, medium size mixing bowl

About the semolina, you can buy it in larger grocery stores – Loblaws usually has some. You can find it in the baking section, and it looks a lot like corn meal but not quite as coarse. You want Semolina, not semolina flour. Here’s the package:

Instructions:
Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Place a pizza stone or bread stone, or ceramic tile on the bottom rack. I have a soapstone stone left over from when my countertops were installed. If you just don’t have a stone, nest 2-3 same size cookie sheets, turn them over and use that instead. The stone will need about 20 minutes to heat up sufficiently, so remember to turn the oven on before you start.

In a mixing bowl combine flour, semolina, and water. Stir with a spoon to combine into a rough dough, but do not knead. Let the dough rest for a few minutes, then cut into into 10 (or 8) equal sized wedges. Cover the wedges with a damp towel.

Sprinkle a little semolina and flour on your rolling surface. Flatten one of the wedges into a circles and roll it out as thin as you can. Paper thin is the goal! Keep the surface and rolling pin generously coated in flour and move the bread around so it doesn’t stick to the counter top. An ideal flatbread would have a 10-12 inch diameter.

When the bread is about 5 inches across, add a generous amount of sea salt and your herb (or parmesan). You’ll have to decide how salty and how herby you want the final breads to be, but don’t be shy with the flavourings.
Before you bake your first bread, turn down your oven to about 400.

Place the bread directly on the hot stone. If it wrinkles or folds, just straighten it. The dough is very easy to work with.

Bake for 2-3 minutes then flip over with tongs and bake for another 1-2 minutes. The breads should be a nice pale gold, and the colour does not need to be even.






Remove the flatbread, and place on cooling rack to cool (or, just eat it up to make sure you flavourings are adjusted correctly. I’ll bet you money you’ll increase both the herb and the salt on the second try).

Once you have your seasoning sorted, you can roll and prepare another flatbread in the time it takes to bake one. Once you get into a groove, you’ll be able to make about 20 breads in a hour.
These breads are terrific alone, or with dip. I really like white bean dip, squash dip, or hummous, but baba ganoush, bruschetta, or just about anything else is great. Or eat them plain, because they really are delicious, with a pleasantly wheaty flavour

Enjoy!

St. Patrick's Day, Ma, Marc, Getting off my Butt

I can't believe it's Friday of march break already! It went by too fast.

I have a couple of things on my mind today.

St. Patrick's Day

First, yesterday was St. Patrick's Day. Normally on St. Patrick's Day, I think of my grandmother (Ma), who used to call SPD "my day". Her maiden name was Hennessey and she was of Irish extraction. I go the impression that SPD reminded her of her father, as she would often mention him in the same context.

I found myself thinking of Marc Rigby, as well. St. Patrick's Day was his favourite holiday after Christmas. He would take the day off work, along with anybody else he could convince and find an Irish Pub with good music and show up for opening. We went to Slainte in Hamilton many times. He would drink copious amounts of Guiness and sing his brains out. Typically we would stay until the bar closed - I would be the DD. The next morning, Marc would go to work as normal. I never saw him acknowledge a hangover.

The loss of a friend you don't see too often is hard to get one's head around. It doesn't affect my everyday life in the sense that he seems "missing" because he wasn't part of my daily life any more. But he comes to mind often. I'll be thinking about a menu for a dinner and need a specific recipe. I'll think to myself "I'll just email Marc, he has it" or "what was the name of that restaurant in Rome? Marc will know." And then it will hit me like cold water that he's gone.

When my grandparents died, I learned that "time DOES NOT, in fact, heal all wounds". Certainly the loss doesn't hurt any less. It seems to me that it just hurts less often. But on the occasions when the grief and loss surge, it hurts just as much.

Physical
One of my March Madness activities was to go to the doctor and get my yearly physical. I really like my new doctor. She actually talks to you like you are an intelligent human being and spends more than two minutes. I'm in overall excellent health except for one concern, which is that my blood pressure is a little high. We talked about it at length and decided that we might move on drugs eventually, but that for now, I was going to focus on diet and exercise.

Does it sound weird to say that I'm glad this little kick in the ass happened? I've been sitting on my butt since school started in September. My eating is excellent except for my after school snack. I'm ravinous when I get home and will eat anything and too much of it! So my eating strategy will be to have a protein smoothy when I get home, and to decrease the carbs in dinner slightly. That should make a significant difference, because otherwise, all I eat is lots of veg, a little low GI fruit and moderate amounts of protein.

It's exercise where I really need to make some changes. In other words, I have to do some! I decided to do a month of reconditioning - walking for two weeks, then walking and short weight workout for the next two weeks. After that I'll do a six month program - I have the precision nutrition exercise program for seven months, so I'll use that. I really like weight lifting, and will simply have to fit it in!

That's all for now.

Round up!

Garden

I’ve been thinking about my garden. I know! There is still snow on the ground, but lots of my vegetable seeds say to plant them inside 8 weeks before last frost. I think that’s now-ish.

We had such success last year that we are slightly expanding our operations. I am planning to add 6 vats for a total of 21, as well as increasing my upside-down-tomato quota.

I acquired seeds this weekend, and have added a couple new types of peppers and tomatos, as well as okra and runner beans. We decided not to go with kohlrabi and cauliflower this year, as the cauliflower didn’t do well, and I don’t really like kohlrabi after all.

So I got some little miniature greenhouses and plan to plant my seeds this weekend for those things that should be planted in advance.

I’m really looking forward to seeing what happens in our flower garden this year as well. We planted almost 400 bulbs in the fall – tulips, hyacinth, crocus, daffies, poppies, and lilies, as well as more peonies, hosta and astilbe. So every day I go outside and look to see if any of the crocus have come up. I guess it’s a bit early, but I live in hope.


School

I’m still enjoying being a teacher. Things are pretty busy, but I find if I stay focused I only rarely have to bring any work home. One thing I like about my school is that it is so small that I don’t have to wait my turn to participate in things. For example, this year I am leading the yearbook club. In most schools, there would be someone there who has been in charge of yearbook for the last 9 years, and no-one else would get a turn until that person retired in 2025.

I’ve also taken a leadership in a role on: we are doing a number of initiatives that will (if all goes as planned) lead to fewer suspensions and less violence and bullying in the school. I have two programs that we are currently training teachers on; we are piloting this spring and doing a full on roll out in the fall. The initiatives are Restorative Practices and Student Mediation. I have been using Restorative Practices in my classroom since semester change and in two of my classes it is working brilliantly. Less so in the third class – or it may just be it is taking the kids longer to come around. Even in the third class, the relationships aer slowly forming.

Speaking of my classes, semester turn around is a HUGE trauma. I know it is hard for the students, but I didn’t expect it to be so hard for me. Who knew it would be so hard to get used to a new group of kids? I feel like I was starting to make some genuine headway with the kids I had, and boom, I have new ones to break in!


March Break

People have this idea that teachers have lots of “holidays” but allow me to put it all in perspective. While I do get lots of time off, I don’t get paid for it.

Nevertheless HURRAY!!!! MARCH BREAK IN TWO DAYS!!!!

My plan is to have a lunch here and there with a few friends, perhaps a date with my beloved husband if he can swing a day off, and plenty of sleeping late and sitting around doing as little as possible.

Cooking

The only thing I’ve cooked lately that is interesting is Sardinian Flatbread, which turned out brilliantly. I’ll do another post on it – with a picture.

That’s all I really have time for now. I have a Community Council meeting in a few minutes.

Yorkshire Pudding

My good friend Adena posted a picture of my Yorkshire Pudding recently in her amazing blog she said I need a goal, along with threats if I didn't post more often, so I thought I would post my recipe.

Candace's Yorkshire Pudding

To make one tray of Yorkshire puddings. To double, double all ingredients including milk, then add another generous blurp of milk.

Ingredients:
1 cup flour
1 cup eggs (about 4 large eggs)
1 cup whole milk
dash of salt

Instructions:
Put the ingredients in a large measuring cup and whisk until smooth.

Leave on the counter and do something else for at least half a hour.

When ready to cook;
Turn on oven as hot as possible. I set mine on the convection setting at 500 degrees F.

While the oven is heating up, add a half teaspoon of duck or goose fat to each cup in your pudding tray. What!? you don't have a dedicated Yorkshire pudding pan!? Are you crazy? Buy one here: Golda's Kitchen.

What else!? You don't have a supply of duck or goose fat to hand? sigh. Whenever you cook duck or goose, cut off the excess fat and skin and throw them in a freezer bag. When you have some time (maybe the same day you are making stock with the duck and goose bones you saved), thaw the fat and skin, cut it into strips,  put it in a wok or saucepan and cook it on medium until the fat is completely rendered out. The skin will be crisp and golden and is now referred to as "cracklings". Scoop the cracklings out with a slotted spoon, salt them and let drain on some paper towel. Eat the cracklings. The fat and salt may stop your heart, but I promise you'll die of pleasure.  Put the rendered fat in a tupper and store in the fridge forever. Duck/goose fat can be heated to unbelievably high temperatures without smoking, so it's perfect for Yorkshires. It makes the most amazing fluffy-on-the-inside-crispy-on-the-outside roasted potatoes. I also use it to make Duck Confit once a year - a highlight of my culinary calendar. I'll write about that on another day!

Back to the Yorkshires: Put the pudding tray in the hot oven and let it and the fat heat up for about ten minutes. It needs to be smoking hot (but not so smoking it sets off the fire alarm!)

Just before the trays are ready, give the Yorkshire batter another good whisk.

Open the oven door and pull out the shelf with the tray on it. Quickly pour the batter into each cup, filling each about half way. Don't be alarmed if it sizzles and spurts. As soon as you are done your pour, push the shelf back in and close the oven. The whole pouring process should take less than 15 seconds so the oven doesn't cool down too much.

Turn on the oven light so you can watch and fret about whether your puddings are rising properly. Don't open the oven door to check on them.

After 5 minutes, turn down the oven to 425.

They take about 20 minutes.

The perfect Yorkshire pudding has a nice high rise, a golden brown colour, a crisp outer shell, a large hollow for sauce in the center and about a tablespoon of soft eggy custard at the bottom or along one of the sides.

Yum.

Travels with Marc

There is more than one kind of journey. There's the literal kind, where you get a on a plane or a train, or in a car, and you actually go somewhere. There's also the metaphorical kind, where you share a long experience of life with someone and where you also end up somewhere other than where you started, but you get there by living, rather than by driving.

I had forgotten about how much I cherish these metaphorical journeys - how much I love and appreciate the people I make them with. They didn't do anything to make me forget about how much they mattered. We all just get caught up in the journey itself - life - and the next thing you know, a year has gone by and then boom! Something happens to remind you.

A couple weeks ago, a good friend of mine died of cancer. His name was Marc Rigby. I'd known him for more than 15 years, and at times it is so hard for me to comprehend that he is really gone. He was a truly good friend and I will miss him for all of my days.

I last saw him during the Christmas holidays. We were to meet for lunch, but for the second time his chemo treatment ran over and I ended up just keeping him company at Mt. Sinai in the out-patient chemo room. I was shocked when I saw him. His face had taken on that skeletal quality that I have associated with someone who will be dead soon for as long as I can remember. Yet it never occurred to to me that Marc would actually die. Marc wasn't a dier. It would be bad for a while, then he would get better. He always got better. But this time he didn't.

At the funeral, I was in a weird shocked place. I couldn't recall any good stories or special memories about Marc.I would listen to others talk about him and think to myself "Right! I was there for that!" but I, who had spent so much time with him, couldn't come up with anything.

But the paralysis is fading from my brain and I find myself thinking about him often. So I thought I would write down those memories and share them over the next couple months. In no particular order.

Here is a picture of Marc in Paris, which I'm not writing about in this installment. But Marc liked elephants and I like this picture, so here it is.

I think the sheer funnest trip Marc and I ever went on together was to Nashville. This trip was a freebee for us, as he had won it by entering a contest. Marc had a thing about contests and entered a whole slew of them every week. He won Raclette grills and shampoo baskets, dinners out, movies, and two trips. Nashville was one.

The Nashville trip was four days. We stayed at the Gaylord Opryland hotel, which even for us jaded travelers was truly a sight to see in itself. We spent half a day just exploring the hotel! Our main purpose was to attend a Patsy Cline tribute at the Grand Ole Opry, which we enjoyed hugely. During the days we did the usual tourist stuff including spending literally four hours in the Dolly Parton display at the Country Music Museum. Marc LOVED Dolly Parton! His wacky side adored her schtick – the big blond wigs, the crazy froofroo dresses and the over the top make up. His love-of-music side totally respected her talent. He made me listen to dozens of songs before we could move on to Conway Twitty and eventually Elvis. We went to Studio B and saw the cupboard that Elvis punched through and sat on the red stool where Elvis, Patsy Cline and other great artists perched to make their famous recordings.

But Marc's absolute favourite thing about Nashville was barhopping on Broadway. This was the Marc Rigby “perfect storm” of enjoyment. Plentiful and really inexpensive but decent beer, outstanding live music, people dressed up in strange outfits (in this case, like cowboys), dancing and people to talk to.

Marc was a little shy about new people when he was sober, but he relaxed with every beer and eventually got positively friendly. He decided we were going to be British Anthropologists, observing and interacting with the natives. He does a passable British accent, certainly good enough to get by the native "Nashvillains". I look more Scots than British, so I adopted a broad Glaswegian brogue and entered into the spirit!  Before the evening was over we’d listened to amazing country bands about 6 different bars, drunk about 15 beers (Marc drank 10, me 4 or 5). I was ready to fall down; Marc didn’t even show that he had been drinking), spent about $30 in total on food and drink, and collected enough information about the habits and rituals of the Nashvillains to write a PhD thesis.

Another trip we went on due to a contest win was Japan. We flew into Tokyo, then moved on to Kyoto and then Hiroshima. In Tokyo, Marc had a chance to really and truly show off one of his huge talents. The streets in Tokyo are generally not named. Instead, each block has a name. As well, the buildings are numbered around the block, not in lowest to highest order, but in the order the various buildings were constructed.  On top of it, most of the buildings were labeled in Japanese characters. I don’t have a very good sense of direction at the best of times, but Tokyo was impossible for me. From the moment I woke up until we returned to the hotel room at night, I had absolutely no idea where I was. Marc, on the other hand, had a brilliant sense of direction. We would take some crazy route through the subway system – maybe six different trains – and emerge in a completely new place. He would take a quick look around and lead us directly to wherever we were going. His sense of direction was like a comic book  “superpower.”

His superpower didn’t help us in Hiroshima at the Peace Gardens, although I think he did have a lifelong fantasy fulfilled there. We were in Japan in the tourist off-season and the Peace Museum and Garden was mostly filled with Japanese school children. There was a group of, I’d say seven year-olds, who were there with their teacher doing a project on International Communications.  A group of five of them approached us. They were dressed in their school uniforms and looked very cute and solemn. “We are Japanese School Children,” they chanted in unison. “We are studying In-ter-nation-al Comm-un-i-ca-tions.  May we ask you some questions?”

They then went on, still chanting in unison, to ask us where we were from, why we were visiting Japan, about our families and so on. Then they gave us some bookmarks which they had made in their class as a small thank you gift.

It didn’t take long for us to realize that aside from a Norwegian guy on the other side of the garden, we were the only foreigners in the Peace Garden. More and more children started crowding around us. After about 45 minutes of the same chanting and questions and bookmarks, we tried to leave, but they were desperate to finish their projects. We tried walking away, then running. It was like that scene in the Beatles movie when the fans are chasing the Beatles down the street. I have rarely seen Marc looking more sheerly gleeful than he did running down the roads of Hiroshima being chased by a mob of screaming fans. I think he always thought he deserved a mob of screaming fans, and since he finally had one, he was going to enjoy every minute of it!

Actually, being mobbed by school children was a bit of a theme of our travels, since it also happened in Morocco. In one case, a school across the street  from where we were eating some oranges let out for lunch and the kids were fascinated by my red hair. We ending up being rescued from a storm of young women and girls by the police! I think Marc was a bit jealous that he wasn't the centre of attention on that occasion, and since he always liked to be the centre of attention, he had to do something to make up for it. He decided his goal would be to blend in with the “natives”. He stopped shaving to enhance what he called his “swarthy attractions,” spoke only in French, and bought a fez, which he insisted on wearing everywhere. I didn’t think it was a flattering look on him, but he got a kick out of pretending to be an eccentric Moroccan. He also got a kick out of attempting to betroth my sister to an admittedly very handsome oriental carpet merchant, but alas, it didn't work out.

Like most tourists in Morocco, were  also inundated with requests to buy things. Still on the theme of being mobbed by children, we were approached wherever we went by dozens of children at a time trying to sell little animals made from folded up palm leaves. Marc decided to give the kids a hard time and made a bunch of “origami moose”. I put both “origami” and “moose” in quotation marks because…. Well, let’s just say that while Marc may have been capable of constructing a bacon hat, he wasn’t generally what anyone would call “artistic”. His “origami moose” looked more like a crumpled up candy wrapper than any form of either origami or wildlife. He got a huge kick out of offering these sorry excuses for art to the kids in exchange for their leaf animals. He would laugh himself silly at the looks of confusion and consternation that would come over their faces.

More to come over the next weeks....

Christmas is coming and my brain is too full. Maybe I can give some away...

Marking
I've just finished a pile of marking - mostly writing assignments. I have a facebook friend, Rory, who often complains about his marking. He is marking university level stuff, and while it doesn't seem to meet his standards, I say it's time to stop complaining. Try marking writing from Essential Level high school students! Is it even "writing"? Is it actually meant as communication? Who knows? I certainly don't. And then there is the problem of penmanship: It's no longer taught. My grade 11's were complaining today because they want me to print on the board because they can't read cursive.They also can't write cursive and their printing is darn iffy. I dream of having a job where assignments are typed! (Except I love the job I have!)

Grading
Report cards a couple weeks back. "Miss! I can't believe you passed me!" and just as likely, "Miss! I can't believe you failed me!" The kids fascinate me with their feelings that they have zero agency in the matter. I didn't pass or fail anyone. I simply wrote down the grade they earned. But they genuine seem to believe that I'm the one who decides who passes and who fails. They seem to have a mental block around the idea they decide for themselves. I need to work on this with them.

PTA
I have PTA tonight. We call it something else, but that's what it is. I find it really fun. Our parents are fantastic. Since our kids are all special needs kids, their parents are concerned about how to best make them successful. They particpate, they add value, and they are nice people. They don't complain that Susie won't get into medical school if she only gets an 89 in English! I'm looking forward to the meeting.

Parent/Teacher Night
Speaking of parents.... Parent/teacher night was an absolute blast. I got to rat out all the kids that are driving me crazy and praise the ones that are working hard. I got most of the parents' email addresses, so now I can send them the homework. Lots more of the homework is now, magically, getting done. The kids both hate it and seem to like it that I know their parents.

Unit Tests
Three weeks ago, I wrote the date of the unit test on the board in the "permanent" area. I pointed it out every single day for two weeks plus. Then, on Friday last week, we did a practice test and I  reminded them that the test would be today. Monday we spent a whole period taking up the practice test in detail. And I reminded them the test would be today. Yesterday, we spent a whole period doing test prep, since from the practice test, they knew what they should study. And of course they were reminded that the test would be today.

I walked into the classroom today to be greeted by a scene of utter panic and mayhem. "Are you sure the test is today?" "What do you mean there is a test today?" "There can't be a test today!" "Oh my GOD!!!! There's a test today!" "There's Miss! Miss, Miss! is the test today?"

Bang head against desk.

Christmas
I have a tree. A nice tree. I've had it since Saturday and it remains greenly naked. But in my mind, it is covered in lights and decorations. Maybe this weekend.

Christmas Baking
I haven't done any. And I'm starting to (slowly and reluctantly) come to the conclusion that I may not be doing any. Here's the problem: since going back to work, I've fallen in love with the idea of resting on the weekends. I know it's radical. But the lure of the crackling fireplace, a glass of wine, my beloved's company and perhaps a good book is simply too extreme to ignore. But it won't feel like Christmas if I don't fit in at least a minor frenzy, so maybe I'll get in the spirit a bit more once my Christmas holidays start. At the end of next week. Thank you OSSTF!

Christmas Shopping
Thanks to the miracle of the internet, this is actually going a bit better than my tree and baking. I don't have to leave the comfort of my fireplace, wine and man to shop. I just pull out the iPad and away I don't go.  I have just four gifts left. Two to order and two I have to physically go looking for.

Christmas Eve Dinner
We are having it at Laura's since my house is too far away. I think it should be good as usual. This year we are having fish for the main, which is a bit of a departure, but every year the meal gets lighter. Well, except for last year, but that was because of an unfortunate calculation error with the amount of beef short rib I cooked. At least it was fabulous, if a little "in excess" of what was needed.

The Shortbread Adventure
A couple weeks ago I was driving down Carlaw and saw a little tent sign at the entrance to an alley for what appeared to be a shortbread store. On Saturday, I mentioned it yet again to Jeff, who suggested we stop. We pulled into the alley, which was indeed alley-ish and not very promising as a source of shortbread. I got out fo the car and look around, and through a rather grimy basement window, I saw what appears to be someone in a baking hat. I spotted a fire door, so I went into the building, down a flight of concrete stairs, and I did indeed find a bakeshop. A marvellous bakeshop where they make the most wonderful shortbread! The retail space consists of a basket with shortbread in it, but the smells are terrific and the shortbread is to die for. One thing I love is savoury shortbread. I bought some of the Stilton and Rosemary flavour and it was great. I plan to use it as a base for my Savoury Shortbread with Carmelized Onion and Creme Fraiche hors d'oeuvres on Christmas Eve. This is one reason I think I may not bake. Solutions are being provided! Hello Coach House Short Bread Company!

I'm not really done, but I have to go. I will try to post more often!