Category Archives: food and cooking

Cakes for her birthday.

church, feasts, food and cooking, , ,

Today at church we celebrated the birth of Christ’s mother, the Theotokos (God-bearer) with Divine Liturgy. I was among those who brought birthday cakes to enjoy after the service. I have made this particular lemon cake four times now, and I like my version better than the one I adapted slightly, which was the America’s Test Kitchen version. I just now typed it up in a tidy form that I could post here. Everyone who tried it loved it; they said it was “fluffy” or “spongy,” and especially praised the crunchy topping. It is oh-so-lemony.

LEMON BUTTERMILK SHEET CAKE

Cake:

  • 2 ½ cups unbleached flour (10 oz.)
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • ½ teaspoon baking soda
  • ½ teaspoon salt
  • ¾ cup buttermilk
  • Zest of 3 lemons or 3 tablespoons, grated
  • ¼ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 1/2 cups white sugar (11 oz.)
  • 12 tablespoons butter, softened
  • 3 large eggs
  • 1 large egg yolk

Glaze:

  • 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar (6 oz.)
  • 2 tablespoons lemon juice
  • 1 tablespoons buttermilk

Instructions:

  1. Have oven rack in the middle, and heat oven to 325 degrees. Grease and flour a 9×13″ baking dish and set aside.
  2. Whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl. Set aside. In a measuring cup, combine buttermilk, lemon juice, and vanilla. Set aside.
  3. Using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the white sugar and lemon zest on medium speed until moist and fragrant (about 1 minute). Remove 1/4 cup of the sugar mixture and place it in a small bowl. Cover and set aside.
  4. Add the butter to the remaining sugar mixture and beat until fluffy (about 2 minutes). Beat in the eggs and yolk, one at a time, until incorporated. Reduce speed to low. Add the flour mixture in 3 additions, alternating with the buttermilk mixture in 2 additions. Mix until smooth (about 30 seconds)
  5. Scrape the batter into the reserved baking pan and smooth out the top. Bake until the cake is golden and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean (about 30-40 minutes). Be careful not to over bake. Transfer the pan to a wire rack and allow to cool for 10 minutes.
  6. While the cake is cooling, whisk the glaze ingredients together until smooth. Spread the glaze over the cake and sprinkle evenly with the reserved sugar mixture.
  7. Allow to cool completely, at least 2 hours.

Happy Feast to All,
and Happy Birthday to the Mother of our LORD!

Many wonderful things.

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The turtle is an old pool toy.

As summer warmth makes the lizards and bees busier, so it works on me. The point of Too Much Heat might lie ahead at some point, but evidently I am still on the continuum with no end in sight. New opportunities and fun things have recently come into my life, so that my calendar has been over-full for a couple of weeks, and my heart the same. So far I haven’t reached the stage where I am craving empty days… but today I am a little bit at loose ends, and probably distracted by the wildfire smoke that is drifting south from the Woodside Fire up on the coast, not close to us, but making the air unhealthy.

I don’t like having to keep the house closed up against smoke, but I am glad the indoor spaces had cooled off the night before the smoke blew in; I had closed all the windows and shades that morning, and in the evening it was still cool, so we didn’t open the windows when the sun went down. Our only “AC” is the marine air that almost always flows into the neighborhood in the evenings or at least at night. So far, the heat (about 90 degrees at the moment) has not seeped indoors very much.

Leaving comfort behind me, I walked out the door into the smoky heat to add water to the fountain, to see new things that have bloomed, and to deadhead a little. I tend to focus on garden “problems” that need fixing — transplanting, weeding, trimming, irrigating. But when I don’t have it in me to do actual work, I usually can remember to just look around and be thankful — for my patch of paradise.

At church, we had a funeral this week, and I was able to participate in commending a 90-year-old child of God to her Father. Our funerals are so nourishing to the soul, as the hymns and prayers acknowledge our grief, and help us grieve in what is ultimately a healing way. The Church and her sacraments are truly full of Christ, His Life and Love, and I come out of every funeral full to the brim.

I told my priest that I wish I had a book into which I had transcribed over the years all the short homilies he has given at the end of funerals. Each is unique to the person and the situation, but they all are incredibly rich and edifying. Next week will be another funeral, for a priest dear to me, and I am very interested to learn how that is different from other funerals in the Orthodox Church.

I trimmed all the lavender but two bushes that the bees were still visiting, though they are faded quite a bit. Another purple note showed up in soup I made, using gifted carrots, cabbage from the freezer, a few ingredients from my garden: Painted Lady beans, kale, parsley, and tarragon.

I have joined a small in-person book group reading The Ethics of Beauty (by Timothy Patitsas) together every week, and an on-line class to study Universal History. I’m planning a trip to see my granddaughter Ivy in a youth musical production, and will continue visits about once a month to the nearby house of a family at church, to read stories to three young children. This is one of my very favorite activities, and it’s so sweet how this arrangement benefits all of us.

My new housemate Bea has been with me now for about a week. We are already having a good time brainstorming about various events we’d like to collaborate on, around books, high schoolers, tea, cooking… She’s baking a cake at this moment, and almost every day she is playing the piano, and that makes the house feel right.

Our usual women’s book group continues, and we have been reading Peace Like a River, by Leif Enger. It’s the second time I’ve read it, and I love it still. I’ve been reading Death Comes for the Archbishop over and over, because the narrator and the story are very calming, when I wake in the night and can’t go back to sleep on my own. For the first time ever I’m reading The Iliad in the original (translated), and that has been satisfying. Because I haven’t read the whole of the Odyssey before, either, I’m a little reluctant to jump into watching the new movie based on it. But I’ve read plenty of interesting reviews!

My large Nodding Violet plant I have been planning to give away as soon as it started blooming again, which is Now! If you live nearby and want it, let me know in a direct message. It needs protection from frost, so I bring it indoors in winter, but many people in my area leave them under a roof outdoors.

Here is a clearer photo of it from a year ago:

At the moment I can’t remember what this plant is… I think a salvia. But it is the one that pulled me outside this afternoon when I saw it out the window. One of the bright and wonderful things in my life right now.

Summer ought to be warm.

family, food and cooking, grandchildren, , ,

Daughter Kate and her family are visiting me for a while, so I’ve been occupied with them and not thinking about my blog. But today they are visiting friends in another city, and I walked around the garden where a pollinator party is ongoing….

This time it was a Cabbage White butterfly that got my attention, in the midst of bees who were also enjoying the lavender.

All the nectar-drinking creatures seem to be luxuriating in the heat; when they luxuriate it means they are all limbered up and move more easily, and faster. At least, that’s how it seems to  me. I feel that way, except for the faster part.

Kabocha squash growing bigger…

Many of the calendulas are spent, but this one just opened:

Before my family arrived, I tried a new zucchini bread recipe to have ready for them. I used this one from the New York Times Cooking site, but cut the sugar by half, and doubled the lemon zest: Olive Oil Zucchini Bread. (If you use this link you can access the recipe, that I am “giving” you.) It’s quite delicious. Unfortunately, I had to buy the zucchinis for it! I guess I didn’t sow my seeds in a good place, as the plants are not growing. I will have to wait longer to have a satisfying summer squash harvest. It’s been years since I’ve been satisfied that way.

I had a longing to make real strawberry shortcake, using the shortcake recipe from my oldest edition of the Joy of Cooking. We ate it for Rigo’s belated seventh birthday party. That recipe called for a little butter, plus “milk or cream.” Note to self: Don’t use all cream! Everyone loved it, but it was super rich.

We are all about soccer this week, as my dear people brought me their zeal for the sport and for the World Cup happening right now. I’ve watched two games with them already, and expect to see two more, including the final game this weekend. My children all played on recreational soccer teams as youths and I do love watching. These professionals are incredible athletes, and I am constantly amazed. Kate’s family have just moved from Argentina, and are excited that Argentina is still in the playoffs. When Raj and Rigo built a Lego street scene, it included a soccer field with a game and spectators. Go, Argentines!

What I drank in Paris.

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I thought it would be fun to join Deb at Readerbuzz and others for “Paris in July,” hosted by Emma of Words and Peace. “The aim of the month is to celebrate our French experiences through reading, watching, listening, observing, cooking, and eating all things French.”

My entire experience of Paris happened unexpectedly in high school, after I had spent a summer in Turkey as an exchange student. Our return to the States was going to be by ship, as had been our trip out, across the Atlantic; this final crossing would be westward, from Rotterdam to New York. But when we left our host families’ homes scattered all over Turkey and gathered in Istanbul, we learned that plans had changed. We were going to fly home instead, by way of Paris, where we would lay over five nights at a school that was unoccupied during the summer.

No one would be supervising us! But we would be provided with beds and breakfast. I don’t remember other meals being served, and I have no memory either of what else I ate for five days; no croissants, I’m certain of that — only those simple foods we were served in the mornings, at long tables in the dining hall: café au lait and plain bread. Was there butter for the bread? Possibly, but it wouldn’t have been necessary. I thought the naked slices of baguettes perfect, and made a special place of reverence in my mind for wide bowls of café au lait, the most elegant breakfast imaginable – five whole mornings of it, très, très bon. 

It has been impossible to find online a picture that comes close to resembling the manner in which this drink was served to us. The bowl was larger and wider than most pictures I can find, but Coffee Geek, in the course of telling us how to make a modern version of the drink, explains how the current bowl style does come in different sizes. I imagine the ones used in that Paris school were an institutional white. As to size, these that Wayfair suggests for the French breakfast look about right to me. If you add a cup of coffee to a cup of milk, your bowl needs to hold at least 16 oz.

French was at the time my favorite subject in school, and when I went off to college, I started out as a French major. In both settings our lessons involved memorized conversations on topics taken from the life of a typical student in France, and here I was in a French school building, having a small bit of like experience; I had learned back in French class about the beverage so I didn’t find it odd.

I enjoyed the forced visit to France and being able to use some of my language skills, which were much stronger than what I’d recently learned of Turkish. We had no guides, no adult even suggesting what we should do or see. My friends and I wandered around and rode the Metro, but the Louvre was closed for some reason; I bought postcards at a bookstall in Montmartre.

What a strange experience it all seems from this vantage point. If we had been given a chance to prepare, what might we have done with five days in Paris? Maybe nothing that different. I’ve never returned to Paris, but I always remember fondly that brief encounter, and drinking  café au lait in its native land.