Yes Valentine’s Day was earlier this week, but it is no secret that I propose it should be more than just one day.
I know others may disagree. Some call Feb 14th a “Hallmark holiday”. But even the company itself says : “while we’re honored that people so closely link the Hallmark name with celebrations and special occasions, we can’t take credit for creating holidays… like Valentine’s Day.”
The birth of Valentine’s Day is at the very least a cloudy subject. One legend of many says that in the 3rd century Valentinus, a theologian and teacher was imprisoned and while in prison he restored the sight of his jailer’s blind daughter. The night before his death on Feb 13, 269 A.D he wrote a note to the girl signing it , “from Your Valentine.”
In the Victorian age people exchanged love tokens and handmade cards on the day. Hallmark did not even come into the picture until 1913 and began producing Valentine cards in 1916.
Many insist though that it is a commercial holiday, only created to sell flowers and chocolate. Others ask why do we need a designated day to celebrate those we love romantically and otherwise? Shouldn’t we be doing that every day ? True. But in this world that seems divided more each day, isn’t it a good idea to have a day on the calendar or a season to act as a reminder that we should lavish extra attention on those we cherish?
It may even help with the winter doldrums . Let’s face it, once the twinkle lights and glitter of Christmas are packed away, January and February can seem rather dreary in comparison, especially weather-wise depending on where you live. So making your home festive inside, can brighten things up even if the sun is not shining outside.
In our household the Christmas season lasts well into January. As my husband has said, in the cold and dreary days of winter why not keep things up as winter decorations? So we enjoy our tree and holiday decorations into later January and even Feb 1st. Taking down Christmas is always a sad task and never as much fun as putting things up. But what truly helps with Christmas withdrawal is promptly putting up our Valentine decorations. So right now our house is a sea of cheery red and pink.
Valentine card giving may be to some a thing of the past , but who doesn’t like to receive one in the mail? We were happy to receive 4 of them this year and each prompted a smile when I saw the red envelopes adorned with heart stickers. It’s little gestures like that , that do make a difference.
Why not take time during Valentine season to express extra gratitude for those in your life that you care about, even if it is just a text across the miles. It is a season to love more, care more, hug more and even be reminded to treat yourself more kindly. And it can only act as a reminder to keep the “Valentine spirit” year round .
And as Charles Schultz said “ All you need is love…. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt”.
So here is a very decadently chocolate recipe to share with those you love.
Katharine Hepburn Brownies
1/2 c. cocoa or 2 square (2 oz) unsweetened Baker’s Chocolate
1/2 c unsalted butter
1c sugar
2 eggs
1/4c flour
1 tsp vanilla
Pinch of salt
1 c chopped walnuts or pecans
Heat oven to 325
Melt butter with cocoa or chocolate together in pan over medium heat. Whisk until blended.
Remove from heat and stir in sugar.
Whisk in eggs and vanilla.
Stir in flour , salt and nuts ; mix well.
Pour into a well buttered 8 in. square baking pan.
Bake at 325 for about 30 to 35 min. until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Do not overbake. These are fudgey brownies. Cool completely and cut in squares
You can frost these if you like with your own chocolate frosting or ganache.
Background on the history of these Katharine Hepburn brownies can be found at
She came into my life when I was 6. She was like no one I had ever seen. She wore a zebra stripe swimsuit, a blonde ponytail with curly bangs, had red lips, open toe black shoes and gold hoop earrings. My previous dolls were baby dolls with child-like faces and lacy dresses not unlike those my mother dressed me in to go to church on Sunday.
But this doll was different.
This doll was Barbie.
She looked grown up and her outfits came with grown up names like “Busy Morning”, “Evening Splendor”, “Resort Set”. “Roman Holiday”, “Suburban Shopper” “Busy Gal” , and “Wedding Day”. They were names that conjured up scenarios in my mind, well beyond my Rochester, NY backyard. So when I “played Barbies” I envisioned my Barbie to be a Fashion Designer working in NY city , having lunch with her best friend Midge, and planning trips to Paris or other exotic places . She was a doer of things I could only dream of and that my baby dolls could not inspire.
I of course did not know it at the time, but Ruth Handler. the creator of Barbie wanted exactly that : to fuel girls’ imaginations. She’s quoted as saying that it was a toy “that would allow girls to imagine being whatever they wanted to be”
The first Barbie was released in 1959 and although an immediate success it was not without controversy. Some designers were squeamish about the doll having breasts, but Ruth Handler stood her ground. Her feeling was that every girl needed a doll to project her own thoughts and dreams. So therefore, it should be a doll that was more grown-up and life-like.
Barbie has continued to stir up controversy over the years. There are those that say her very dimensions have given girls a false image. I have to say at six years old I had no illusions that I would have a 3 inch waist! Her dimensions, breasts or otherwise, never occurred to me. Barbie was simply Barbie. Like a good friend, she was fun; she was positive; she did things that I wanted to do. And she did them confidently and did them well.
I loved “playing Barbies” and cherished both my blonde ponytail Barbie and one I received a few years later, the Fashion Queen Barbie, which came with three wigs. I spent many happy hours changing their outfits and imagining their adventures and my own. I think Barbie always has been an extension of the girl putting on those outfits and conjuring up those ideas.
Years later, long after I had put away my Barbies, my mother asked if I would give my Barbies to my cousin who was 12 years younger than me. I suppose, rather selfishly, I bristled at the idea, but only because I had seen the way she took care of her things and envisioned that my pristine Barbies would not fare well in her care. I conceded to give her the original blonde ponytail Barbie . I never contemplated that I would come to regret giving the original away.
My assumption that Barbie would not fare well in her care was correct. The next time I saw my Barbie doll her hair had been cut, her face was marked up, and she was tossed on a heap of other toys. Of course one would argue, dolls are meant to be played with and every little child plays with them differently. But I have to admit there was a sense of sadness when I saw my Barbie in that condition. It is a testimony to Ruth Handler’s creation that it was like looking at an old friend who I had let down.
I hadn’t thought about Barbie all that much in the years after that, except in conversations with other friends about favorite toys we had growing up. Barbie was almost unanimously mentioned.
Then in the late 90s, my friend Joanne had gone to a garage sale and happily shared with myself and my friend Gaylene that she had bought a Barbie. It immediately brought a smile to our faces. We both looked at each other and knew what we were going to do. We too were going to get a Barbie. Never mind that we were well into our 40s; it didn’t matter. Barbie continued to fascinate us even as adults. So we ended up getting our Barbie at Target : an equestrian Barbie all decked out as you would imagine Barbie would be in the perfect clothes for riding. One Barbie led to another. Some were play Barbies, and some were Barbies that were more collectible in beautifully crafted fashions. No matter what , they still fueled the imagination.
To this day, I still use my Barbies to create scenes at different holidays. At Christmas they’re decorating the tree with their “Ken’s”. Some are in a little sled, I imagine coming back from a day skiing the slopes in Colorado and heading back to the lodge. There always seems to be a story in my head to go along with the scene because the very nature of Barbie’s life-like qualities demands it.
Barbie has always been larger than life and so it didn’t t seem a huge surprise to me that there would be a Barbie movie released this past year. It seemed fitting that she would have her own movie. When I first heard about it though, I worried that it would just be a kid’s movie or fluff, but I needn’t have worried. The movie is clever, thought-provoking, funny and fun… and definitely not a kid’s movie. It explores some heavy life questions and it focuses on what Barbie has always represented : endless possibilities.
Critics talk about male bashing in the movie. But really Ken has always been an accessory to Barbie, not the main attraction. And in the movie Ken is forced to explore his self worth and who he wants to be in life , which is not a bad thing.
Yet even after the movie was released naysayers still focused on her measurements when talking Barbie. They spend so much time talking about it in fact that that they miss what truly Barbie has been teaching us all along and why she has mattered and endured all these years. Literally there are hundreds of Barbies on screen exchanging “Hi Barbies!” and they are all different shapes, sizes and colors, in all different jobs and careers, with different personalities . They all encourage, support each other and celebrate their uniqueness. And aren’t those the best lessons we can learn from Barbie Land?
I try to include with most of my blog entries a recipe and of course this one will be pink in honor of Barbie.
Actually the movie is a celebration of PINK and all its joyfulness. And it rightfully revives the color to its deserving place in the rainbow.
Pink Champagne Cupcakes
24 cupcakes
1 box white cake mix
1 cup pink champagne
⅓ cup vegetable oil
3 eggs
pink or red food coloring
Frosting
1/2 c to 1 c Butter softened
3 c powdered sugar
1/4 c pink champagne
1 tsp vanilla
2 -3 drops of pink or red food coloring
Preheat oven to 350℉.
Combine cake mix and champagne. Add remaining ingredients until combined.
Pour batter directly into muffin tins with muffin cup liners,just over half full.
Bake 10 minutes. Cool.
Combine frosting ingredients. Spread or pipe onto your cupcakes.
Oscar Day 2023 is behind us. I realize to some it is just another night, but in our household Oscar Sunday is like the Super Bowl.
I was raised on the movies and my fascination started at a young age. As a child of course I was taken to the obligatory Disney movies, my first being Snow White. But my mother also took me to see more grown up fare. My first recollection of a movie that was not a cartoon was Gigi and I was around 4 or 5. I had no clue to the storyline, but I sat wide-eyed at the lavish costumes and scenery.
My mother always watched the Academy Awards and from my bedroom, next to the living room , which had only an accordion door that did not fully shut, I could position myself on the bed and through the tiny crack, catch flickering images of the magic of Oscar night .
By the time I was 11, I was allowed to stay up for the broadcast which on the East Coast could go well past 11 pm. My first Oscar night was 1965 when Julie Andrews won Best Actress for Mary Poppins ; Rex Harrison, Best Actor for My Fair Lady and that film also won Best Picture. Since our tv was black and white, I could only guess at the colors of the glittering gowns of Debbie Reynolds, Audrey Hepburn, Angie Dickinson, Angela Lansbury and Joan Crawford, who were among the presenters. But even in black and white the glamour and the excitement of the evening was magical.
That excitement and fascination has never left me. Even now I am agog at the the designer gowns and the sparkling jewels on the Red Carpet . But most of all, I love Oscar night as it is a celebration of movies , their joy and their power.
And movies do have power.
The first time I felt this power was when I saw Dr. Zhivago and had to leave the theater sobbing as Omar Sharif collapses running after Lara.
And most recently in the current crop of Oscars movies, I felt it watching The Banshees of Inisherin. It is a testimony to the power of movies, that although I liked very little about this story, it still shook me to the core. The movie was billed as a black comedy but I found nothing in it comical. Seeing the utter devastation on Colin Farrell’s character, Pádraic’s face when his long time friend announced he no longer wanted to be friends with him, packed a powerful punch and hit too close to home. I had lived the feelings in the movie. This past year my husband and I had friends who we have known for over 20 years tell us in an email that they no longer wanted to be our friends . We got a bit more of an explanation than Pádraic got in the movie, but our faces were every bit as distraught as his as we read the email. Our friends summarized their reasons , but each of the ill-conceived notions could have easily been discussed and talked out if they valued the friendship, which obviously they did not. None of the email made sense and we knew there had to be more that was not being said.
I read a quote recently that said “ Friendships heal by making the unsaid said and they die from the unsaid never being said. “ Our one time friends’ unspoken words were truly a poison that killed what we had considered a thriving, close, dear friendship. Like Colin Farrell’s Pádraic, we were left wondering how this could possibly happen and we were not given a chance to address whatever the reasons were for detonating the relationship. The saying goes that “Art imitates life” but the topic of friends not wanting to be your friends anymore is not a subject generally explored in film. You can find many movies that depict romantic breakups but few to none with someone saying they no longer want to be your friend. It sounds like something you’d hear on the playground between two 10 year olds.
We watched Banshees of Inisherin , a movie we did not even like and relived the hurt of our friends’ stinging words. And when Oscar night came, although I was in awe of Austin Butler’s Elvis, I found myself half wanting Colin Farrell to win the best actor award! His anguished face in that film spoke to what was in our hearts and I so identified with his character that I was rooting for him in a film I didn’t even like! Oh, the power of movies!
Colin Farrell did not win the award nor did Austin Butler. Brendan Fraser did for a movie we did not see, The Whale. I am sure , from the clips we’ve seen, his award is well deserved . I am sure his performance was as compelling as all the other nominees and stirred emotions in its audiences. And that is what movies do.
It is that power of movies to capture our hearts and speak to us personally that we celebrate on Oscar night. It is a celebration of that power and also it is the power of dreams. Whether I have seen all the nominated movies or very few , the excitement on the faces of those that get to hold the gold prize captivates me. And it is a joy to watch the power of dreams coming true.
I went to the mailbox not long ago and there was a lovely field of sunflowers peeking out from the usual “junk mail”.
It was a postcard from a friend, just to say hello. I found myself immediately smiling when I saw it. I re-read it a couple times over, relishing the actual handwriting. It was like I was looking at some ancient artifact. And isn’t that what actual letter writing or handwriting, has become?
In a world where we most often use texts or emails to communicate (and even those are rare these days) seeing an actual handwritten letter has become a thing of the past. Certainly, any communication is appreciated. But even texting in real sentences is sometimes rare. “Okay” is reduced to “K” or “thanks” to “thx”. So seeing a handwritten letter is a welcome sight. Someone has taken the time to actually WRITE!! How novel!!
Speaking of the lost art of letter writing, I just finished reading “As Always Julia, The Letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto” .
It is a collection of letters between Julia and Avis DeVoto, that started when Julia was living in Paris and Avis in the U.S. Avis’ husband Bernard had written an article in a major publication about the poor quality of American kitchen knives. Julia read the piece and was compelled to send Mr. DeVoto her take on the importance of proper kitchen utensils, along with sending the perfect French knife. Avis was answering her husband’s mail so responded to Julia’s thoughtful letter . And with that a great correspondence began and indeed a great friendship.
The book is fascinating in that not only do they discuss their passion for cooking, excellent cookware, ingredients and recipes but as the years went on their correspondence gave an insight into their private worlds and the larger world around them : the political climate of the 1950s and their attitudes and opinions on what was happening at the time.
As you read the letters you can see this wonderful trust between them building , letter upon letter. Avis had publishing connections and actually nurtured Julia’s whole process of having her book “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” published. There is great enthusiasm and support reaching out across the miles in each line.
I can relate totally to this, having my own pen pal, Jean from England, starting when we were around 11 or 12 . Our letters back-and-forth were as faithful and frequent as Julia’s and Avis’, albeit on different subjects. Ours was a friendship fueled at first by my love of the Beatles and hers of the Monkees, her dedication to her pet guinea pig, Snowie and mine to my beloved cat, Tiger. We talked about school friends, crushes, and dreams of the future. It was rather like writing in your diary and sharing inner most thoughts and feelings . I still have a great many of those letters and love to look at her beautiful handwriting along with her drawings of fashions she was dreaming of designing. Those letters are treasures. I remember looking forward to the mail and what Jean was going to say about the latest new group she was following or wanting to share with her what was going on in my life. Although this wasn’t a face-to-face friendship until much later, it was very much the start of an enduring one that 56 years later exists to this day. The little girls who were writing from Weaverham, Cheshire and Rochester, NY, are still in contact , albeit not as frequently. But when we do connect via email or Facebook Messenger, the genuine friendship is felt even through the distance and the time that has passed.
We got to know each other through those letters. We finally met face to face in the 1990s. At the time , my husband asked if I was nervous that Jean and I might not like each other or have anything to talk about. I had not given that a thought, as we had known each other so well on paper all these years, so of course we would like each other! And indeed we immediately felt at home when we met and it was like we had always known each other, which in fact we had , through our letters. We have since had the pleasure of having Jean and her husband Nick in our home and we have had the delight in visiting them and seeing their world in the UK. It was with great joy I found myself walking with her through her town and village after reading about it so often in her letters.
So when I read Julia’s and Avis’ correspondence it brought back that wonderful feeling of anticipation for the next letter greeting me in the mailbox with familiar handwriting. And when I got the sunflower postcard in the mail, I realized once again how important those personal connections are and how appreciated.
Of course any communication is important . Sure we have social media and can keep in touch with happenings in that way, but someone taking the time to connect one on one, gives a personal touch that would be lacking in a Facebook post that goes out to all.
It’s that personal touch and connection that I think we all crave. And to make it even more personal , If you ever feel like really making someone’s day a little brighter, I suggest taking pen in hand and writing a little note or letter and sending it. It is guaranteed to leave someone smiling.
And speaking of leaving someone smiling, here is a recipe for Julia’s “Reine de Saba” (Queen of Sheba) cake which she shared with Avis in her letters. It is a classic , decadently delicious chocolate almond cake fit for a Queen ..or King ..at Christmas.. or any time.
Julia’s Reine de Saba Cake
Use a Round cake pan , 8 inches in diameter and 1 1/2 inches deep
4 ounces or squares semisweet chocolate , melted
2 Tbsp. rum or coffee
1 stick softened butter
2/3 cup granulated sugar to mix with butter
3 egg yolks
3 egg whites
Pinch of salt
1 Tbsp. granulated sugar to beat with egg whites
1/3 cup pulverized almonds
1/4 tsp. almond extract
1/2 cup cake flour , scooped and leveled, sifted
Chocolate-Butter Icing (recipe follows)
Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Butter and flour the cake pan. Set the chocolate and rum or coffee in a double boiler over almost simmering water; let melt.
Cream the butter and 2/3 cup of sugar together for several minutes until a pale yellow, fluffy mixture. Beat in the egg yolks until well blended.
Beat the egg whites and salt in a separate bowl until soft peaks form; sprinkle 1 Tbsp. sugar and beat until stiff peaks are form.
With a rubber spatula, blend the melted chocolate into the butter and sugar mixture, then stir in the almonds, and almond extract. Immediately stir in one fourth of the beaten egg whites to lighten the batter. Fold in a third of the remaining whites and when partially blended, put in one third of the flour and continue folding. Alternate with more egg whites and more flour until all egg whites and flour are incorporated.
Pour batter into the cake pan. Bake in middle level of the preheated oven for about 25 minutes. Cake is done when it has puffed, and 2 1/2 to 3 inches around the circumference are set so that a toothpick put into that area comes out clean. The center should move slightly if the pan is shaken, and toothpick inserted in that area comes out oily.
Allow cake to cool in the pan for 10 minutes. Run a knife around the edge of the pan, and reverse cake on the rack. Allow it to cool for an hour or two; it must be thoroughly cold to be iced .
Frost cake with Chocolate Butter Icing and press crushed almonds on top and/or sides of cake.
Chocolate Butter Icing
2 ounces (2 squares) semisweet baking chocolate
2 Tbsp. rum or coffee
5 to 6 Tbsp. unsalted butter
Directions
Place the chocolate and rum or coffee in double boiler over almost simmering water to melt.
Remove from heat , let set 5 minutes or so, until perfectly smooth.
Beat in the butter a tablespoon at a time until chocolate mixture has cooled to spreading consistency. Spread it over your cake with spatula or knife. Decorate cake with almonds,
Years ago when probably in my late 30s or early 40s, I was exiting a grocery store one sunny Sunday in May when I was greeted with a red rose and a cheery “Happy Mother’s Day” by a smiling store clerk. I snapped back at him with a very indignant , “ I am not a mother” . He then said “ Well, you HAVE a mother… so “Happy Mother’s Day”. I countered with “My mother is dead”. His face fell and I stomped off to my car.
Looking back on it, I cringe at my behavior. True, I am not a mother , but that is a choice we made and I don’t lament it. And although it is hard in a society that glorifies the choice to have children to not feel an “outsider” on Mother’s Day, my indignant response to the clerk was wrong. Whether one has decided not to have children or one cannot or does not yet have children, one can still honor Mother’s Day . Many have wonderful even “maternal” relationships with their nieces , nephews or godchildren or even their furry four legged families. It is safe to say that we can be a “mother” to someone even if not a biological one. Indeed there are those like myself that have been fortunate to have had two mothers in their lives… aunts or grandmothers , cousins, or friends who have been there for us and “mothered” us lovingly. The clerk was right, we all have mothers.
But Mother’s Day can be a sad day for those of us whose mothers , biological or not, are gone. Yet their love still lives on and that is a testimony to the strength of a mother’s love: that it does live on in our hearts and is an active presence in our lives , even when they are not here.
This is the first Mother’s Day that I truly have no “mother “present and alive to call on this day and talk with, send flowers and thank. Even when my mom was alive, i recognized this day as a day to celebrate not only my own mom but my Aunt Marlene. When my mom passed, I was grateful for the relationship I always had with my aunt. My Aunt Marlene was always a second mom to me even when my own was very much alive. My mom was grateful for that and not jealous of it. She often remarked how thankful she was that I had that relationship with her younger sister and I am thankful I had a mother who was so generous in heart.
For me, I have learned that Mother’s Day is a day to reflect on all that my own mother taught me and gave me when she was on this earth and even now when she is gone, now almost 46 years ago. I reflect on her love, the joy she brought to life, her caring, her unwavering encouragement and delight in everything I did and her glowing praise and affection to me always.
I also reflect on Mother’s Day on all the things my Aunt Marlene gave me : her shoulder and ear always, her giving spirit, her unfailing inspiration ,even when she was going thru so much, and her beautiful laugh that could always make me smile.
I miss them both dearly and on Mother’s Day especially this year, I feel all over again that sadness of not having a mother here on this day that celebrates mothers. And if I am given a garden rose and greeted with a “Happy Mother’s Day” on the upcoming holiday by a well meaning store clerk, I will accept it gladly. I have been blessed to have had two mothers in my life and am thankful for the garden of beautiful memories that have grown from that love and that are always with me. And that gift is truly one to be celebrated.
Yes it is the sweetest of “SEASONS” ! Valentine’s Day should really be more than just a day. I love this time of year when red and pink hearts predominate whether in glitter, velvet or of course, chocolate.
I always looked forward to Valentine’s Day as a child in grade school, choosing with my mother’s help a prepackaged glittery assortment of Valentines from the store. I labored over just which one I was going to choose for my 3rd grade crush and which to give those I didn’t want to give the wrong impression . I am sure the “crush” or others did not give it more than a passing glance but in my 9 or 10 year old mind this was a matter of grave importance : who got which Valentine. I wish I had saved some of the Valentines I received at that age. Given the fact that I grew into an extremely sentimental adult , it is astonishing I did not save even one.
Of course I save and cherish every one of my also very sentimental husband’s Valentines. And I have some lovely vintage Valentines that I treasure. Years ago my mother-in-law, Marian asked me if I’d like a box of old Valentines she saved from her grade school years. Of course I immediately said yes , being someone who loves everything about the sweetest day of the year. But what intrigued me most about the Valentines was that my mother-in-law , who I knew to be outwardly unsentimental and super practical , kept the Valentines all these year later! I had known her at that point almost 20 years . I learned there was a lot I obviously did not know about this woman that I sometimes felt showed little emotion . It was unfair of me of course. But coming from an Italian family where we greeted each other with a warm hug upon saying hello and goodbye and sometimes in between, my mother-in-law’s demeanor sometimes seemed remote. It was a good lesson to learn : that there is more to a person than what they might show on the surface and perhaps for reasons we cannot possibly begin to understand.
Receiving the Valentines was a great gift to me , not only because the vintage frilly heart and flower designs were a delight to look at, but because it was something she obviously had treasured enough to keep all that time. I take them out each Valentine season and place them around our home as decorations. I started doing that the year she sent them to us. She seemed very pleased with that and sending them, as she said she knew I “was the person who would enjoy them the most”.
Here are some favorites of mine from her collection. Since she would be over 100 years old now, these are between 95 and 100 years themselves.
We have no idea who “Augusto” was but I can only gather “Marian B” saved this as it meant something to her at the time.
Valentines sent by snail mail are rare these days but I do enjoy sending them and of course receiving them. And who doesn’t like even getting a thoughtful Happy Valentine’s text on this holiday of the heart.
And of course the sweetest of seasons also calls for baking and baking something…well…SWEET!
These are Brownie truffles which I have adapted from a Brownie recipe I’ve made for years . They happen to be gluten-free which makes them no less delicious as you can tell from the first fudge filled bite. They have received raves from those gluten intolerant or not. You can make them as brownies and cut them in squares for serving. But if you like something a bit more fancy, bake as directed and when cooled , scoop into balls . Then dip each into silky ganache and these become the perfect, bite size, delectable morsels. Rich? Yes! Indulgent? Most definitely! But isn’t Valentine SEASON the perfect time to indulge your Valentine and yourself for that matter?
Valentine’s day is about indulging our loved ones and showing how much we care for each other. I once had a friend scoff at the idea of “Valentine’s Day” as she said to her it is “every day” as far as showing her significant other she cared. Well, I certainly agree that we can always use more of that sentiment on any day. But I am all for having an actual “holiday” also to celebrate that devotion, Hallmark generated or not . During Valentine “Season” and beyond for that matter, whether we are expressing that in whatever fashion : words, text , social media, cards, art, decorating or baking, spreading more of “the love” can only be a good thing.
Gluten-Free Fudgy Pecan Brownies
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces, and more for greasing pan
1/3 cup cornstarch
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon (optional)
1/2 tsp. salt
12 oz. semisweet chocolate chips
3/4 c. sugar
1 tsp, pure vanilla extract
3 large eggs
1 c. chopped toasted pecans (have also used walnuts and hazelnuts)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Lightly butter an 8-inch square baking pan and line with parchment paper, leaving a 2-inch overhang on sides
Whisk together the cornstarch, cocoa, cinnamon, and salt. Set aside.
Put butter and chocolate in top of double boiler over simmering, but not boiling water, until melted and smooth. Take off heat.
Stir in sugar and vanilla. Stir in eggs, one at a time, until combined. Add cornstarch mixture and stir vigorously until mixture is smooth , about 2 minutes. Stir in nuts.
Pour batter into pan and smooth top. Bake until a toothpick inserted in center comes out with moist crumbs, about 35 minutes, rotate pan halfway through.
Let cool completely in pan on a wire rack. Using paper overhang, lift cake out of pan and cut into squares.
For truffles, after cooling in pan, scoop into balls and and dip into ganache.
Chocolate Ganache
1/2 c heavy cream
12 oz semisweet chocolate chips or dark chocolate (used a bit less than that for 4 to 6 people)
Put heavy cream in small saucepan and heat , but not to boil.
Take off of heat and put in chocolate and stir well until melted and thick.
Our 95 year old Aunt Grace wrote this sign above on her kitchen cabinet. She is 97 now and still lives by this motto. What a great one to adopt and embrace.
It got me to thinking about birthdays, although mine is not until April. There are two philosophies about birthdays. Some like myself celebrate them like a national holiday. A Birth- “day”? Are you kidding? Not enough. Birthday “week” ? Yes! But Birthday “MONTH” has always been more the norm in our household.
There are of course those who look upon it as “just another day” or a reminder of getting older. Of course that is true : the more birthdays we have, the older we are. But Aunt Grace’s quote urges us to forget the number which is after all what it is , just a number and celebrate , be grateful and LIVE.
And birthdays SHOULD be celebrated to the fullest. I am sure I inherited this credo from my family. As I was growing up my mom made my birthday special even days before the actual date. She would leave cards or small little trinkets for me to find leading up to the big event. And it was a big event in our house. I was born on my Grandfather’s birthday and we lived with him until I was 16. Our mutual birthdays were big gatherings. In an Italian family like my own, the grandparent’s home was the hub. Even Sundays with no birthdays on the horizon were big events with sometimes 15 people or more around a table meant for maybe 10, people overflowing on either end. I chuckled once when I heard a friend say that they could not entertain in their apartment as they only had a small table and not enough room. There was no such thing as “not enough room “ in my childhood home. There were only more chairs added.
And of course a cake is in order for any celebration but especially birthdays.
Here is one from my husband’s side of the family : Italian Creamcake. I do not know why it is has Italian in the title. I have tried over the years to find the origin of the cake and it does not seem to have any Italian roots. The only thing I have found is that it is from the Southern states and first was noted in cookbooks of the late 1930s. Whatever the origins , it always gets raves at any table and is especially a favorite of my brother’s who has a January birthday.
Actually why wait for an occasion? It elevates even an ordinary day into a celebration with 3 moist lovely layers and a decadent cream cheese frosting.
But if you do make it for a birthday, remember : don’t count the candles, just enjoy the sweetness in each bite. Another great motto to live by!
Italian Creamcake
1/2 c. margarine
1/2 c. shortening
2 c. sugar
5 eggs separated
1 c. buttermilk
1 tsp baking soda
1 tbsp vanilla
2 c. flour
4 oz coconut flakes plus 4 oz more for decorating
1 c. chopped pecans
Frosting
2 -8 ounces cream cheese at room temp
1/2 cup margarine , at room temp (can also use butter)
3 c. confectioner’s sugar
1-2 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup chopped pecans (can use more after cake is frosted, for decoration)
Grease and flour 3-9” pans with solid Crisco
Cream shortening, margarine and sugar until light and fluffy
Add egg yolks one at a time. Beat well after each addition.
Combine buttermilk, soda and vanilla in a separate bowl.
Add alternately with flour to the creamed mixture. Begin and end with flour.
Add nuts and coconut,
Beat egg whites till stiff and fold into batter.
Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Check at 25 minutes and take out when a toothpick comes out clean when inserted.
For frosting : beat cream cheese, confectioners’ sugar until smooth.
Add margarine and mix till smooth with 1/2 c nuts or more.
Her cards are creatively delightful and her words are always on point.
With the New Year here and so many, including myself, feeling less than optimistic amidst the talk of yet another new variant and the unsettled feeling that prevails, the words on the card : “rejoice in the joy of the small things” is a necessity and good advice. It’s important to find our joys where we can and even in the most simple pleasures.
In January, cozying up with a mug of hot chocolate is indeed a simple, but joyful pleasure. It is one for sure to bring a smile and comfort .
And the best hot chocolate I have ever had was in Paris at Les Deux Magots. For decades Les Deux Magots was the gathering spot for artists, writers, and creative luminaries. Their sweetened concoction of melted chocolate is thick and decadent and delicious. Their recipe is surely a secret , but this comes close. Enjoy and indulge!
Parisian Inspired Hot Chocolate
4 servings
2 cups whole milk
4 ounces 60% cacao chocolate, finely chopped
2 teaspoons granulated sugar
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
In a small saucepan, bring milk to a boil over medium heat.
Whisk in chocolate and sugar until blended.
Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until completely smooth and heated through and thick. (Do not allow to boil).
Stir in vanilla extract. Divide among cups and serve immediately.
This blog is called Everyday is a Holiday and as I pointed out in the “about” section in a disclaimer…that title is a bit misleading as everyone realizes life is not always a holiday!! The last time I posted on this blog was February. And the months from that time onward have been anything but a holiday. We lost our beautiful Aunt Marlene to a long and courageous battle with lung cancer . She had always rallied, but this time it was not meant to be and she left us sadly in June. I did not feel like writing before this time .
And now deep into December I decided instead of sharing thoughts on my dear Aunt who was like a second mom to me…although I know I may do so in future posts… I would share instead a recipe that is so associated with her at this time of year: Her Italian Sfingi recipe.
Yet suddenly I could not find the recipe! I knew she gave it to me the last time we visited at Christmas in 2019. Yet you know how it is, in the midst of all the ribbon, wrap and gifts, things get put aside and lost. I could find it nowhere. So I found myself praying to St. Anthony, that stalwart of saints who I have been told since I was old enough to really listen, finds things. He is the “go to saint” for the careless, the absentminded, those that misplace things regularly. Being one of them as a child , I found myself bending St. Anthony’s ear with great frequency. He didn’t always come through for me. In fact I told my mother that surely he must be keeping all the loot lost somewhere for himself and that is why no one can find it!! Maybe my sacrilegious sarcasm alone made St. Anthony turn a deaf ear to me. Whatever the reason, I have not been too much of a believer of his powers. (which is sacrilege enough in an Italian family) . My friend Janet says that if St. Anthony does not come through, after awhile, you have to go straight to St. Jude, the patron saint of the hopeless. In fact she says she bypasses St. Anthony completely and goes straight to St. Jude. So it happened that when I couldn’t find my Aunt Marlene’s recipe, I called upon St. Jude. And he came through. Which means either I am hopeless or that St. Anthony gave up on me and St. Jude pitied me, or my Aunt Marlene surely had something to do with me finding it. Whatever the case- here is the recipe. They are lovely little, light pillows of sweetness that melt in your mouth and to me spell Christmas .
Aunt Marlene’s Sfingi with Ricotta
1- 1/2 lbs. ricotta
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 -3/4c flour
3 Tbsp baking powder
4 -1/2 Tbsp sugar
pinch of salt
Mix all together until smooth
Drop by tbspful in hot oil
If oil is hot enough, sfingi will cook and turn over without help. If not, turn with a large spoon to brown on both sides.
Add as many sfingi that will fit in skillet or deep-fryer but without crowding. Fry until golden brown.
Drain on paper towels . Sprinkle with powdered sugar , and sprinkles if you like
This card by Mary Engelbreit is a favorite of mine and it is timely for right now. It is almost a year since the pandemic hit. I look back at our calendar for January/February 2020 and nearly every weekend was full with play dates, movies out and most of all, dates for getting together with friends. Then all of the sudden it all comes to a halt after the first week of March. The calendar remains bare until it picks up again with outdoor social distance dates in the summer. Then later in the year once cold weather hits, connecting goes back to Zoom happy hour dates/ phone calls and texts Of course all that is no substitute for face to face visits and for friends that are in another state, we have not seen each other in over a year. And that is a statement I never would have believed could be true.
But true friendships can be a comforting presence without the pleasure of being physically present. Being “together” doesn’t always mean being in the same space. Indeed, there are friends that remain constant in our lives even though we are not face to face.
There is a quote going around that says that one should especially honor friendships that allow you to pick up from where you left off , regardless of how long it’s been since you have connected; and that friendships that survive those silences and space are the ones that never diminish. I would beg to differ somewhat with that. Friendships need communication to survive . You can’t just neglect your garden and expect your flowers to grow! It’s the same with friendships. Of course one can go without seeing each other and still pick up where one left off months and maybe years later. But without a caring connection in between….the checking in on each other… the sharing and giving attention to each other.. there is something that is diminished. To me, the friendships that flourish are the ones that may have to withstand distance and spaces, but still care to keep up with what is happening in each other’s world and what matters to each other. Those are the delightful “constants” in life. Near or far, they are the ones that make a difference and matter.
