This post is a special shout-out to my mother.
To any of you “cool” kids out there who get embarrassed when your mother sings your praises to the world: rather consider yourselves blessed.
If it weren’t for my mother, I wouldn’t be fulfilling an order for Christmas favours for a lady who owns a local café.
In fact, I owe quite a few of my clients to my mother’s marketing skills.
Thanks, E’ma!
One week until Christmas!
“Whip it. Whip it good.”
Quinoa. Deceptively like a grain in both appearance & function, it is actually an edible seed. In terms of fuel (it is a complex carb with a generous dose of protein), it can often serve as a substitute for grains.
Quinoa comes from a grasslike plant that, some argue, more closely relates to spinach & beet root, than to – say – wheat or oats.
After millennia of cultivation & consumption, & the determined efforts of teams of professional thinkers, quinoa still eludes classification.
Still & all, obligingly, I partake.
The Ancient Incas are the first we know of to have exploited the benefits of Quinoa, & even considered the plant sacred.
Many professional athletes today follow the example of South American runners, who sometimes used quinoa to fuel cross-country treks. (<– I'll take their word for it, because my short-distance treadmill runs are just "fine & dandy, thank you!")
Aside from its many laudable nutritional advantages, I love the versatility of quinoa. Soups, salads, & serials… Just seeing if you’re paying attention… Sweet or savoury. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Spring, Summer, Fall, & Winter. Add a different veggie, a different spice. heck! Change the bowl you serve it in! And it worthily adapts to the season or the dish.
My absolute favourite is my sister’s Quinoa Salad. Although there are several variations, her recipe is consistently Tex-Mex & power-packed. Not only do the spices make our taste buds sing, but each element is refreshing & adds dimension to the salad.
Roasted spiced pumpkin. Loads of Hass Avocados. Berlotti beans. Cold & crisp Bell peppers. Lime. Goat Cheese. Etc. Etc. Etc.!
The possibilities are unlimited.
Contrary to popular opinion, healthful food doesn’t have to compromise flavour!
“Whip it. Whip it good.”
Red Velvet is to America what Ferrero Rocher is to Italy.
Both were fashioned in their country’s economical struggle.
If Red Velvet were an evening gown, Helen Rose would be the designer & Grace Kelly its sole model.
What was once a poor man’s alternative during The Great Depression, is now the show-stealer for a Junior League luncheon OR a custom cake for your friend’s 27th birthday.
Let’s face it, Folks: Red is classy.
There are delectably-exclusive chocolate cakes out there; but as far as appearances go, nothing captures the eye more than the luxurious Red Velvet cake.
It is the centrepiece.
When I prepare a Red Velvet, my mind wonders off into the entire 40’s – themed scene: Frank Sinatra Station, Tea-length dresses & stilettos, & men absentmindedly loosening their wives’ bow tie job as they discuss business.
There are various frostings coupled with Red Velvet that reflect the culture of the countries that adopted this cake: French Buttercream, Normal Vanilla Buttercream, & (most consistently) Cream Cheese frosting.
My opinion? Cream cheese frosting was MADE for Red Velvet. It carries a refined & (if you’re not too careful) overpowering flavour that is desirous of a worthy accompaniment.
In other words, it was meant for the Red Velvet.
There’s a science & culinary creations shouldn’t leave one wondering but rather amazed.
When I look at my favourite cuisines (Italian, Middle Eastern, German, Mexican, etc.), I see & taste the history behind them.
Explorers risked their lives to give the world new spices & flavours.
Ferrero Rocher was created during a chocolate ration in Italy.
Red Velvet cake was in existence in the Northeastern United States. However, it wasn’t popularised throughout the states until a Texan company (Adams Extracts) created what is claimed to be the first red food colouring. It was also affordable – which appealed to those coming out of the depression.
No more beet root colouring.
Red Velvet cake is not to be trifled with. Its flavour & vibrant colour commemorates a rich history.
Ultimately, each bite we take should speak to our very souls.
“Whip it. Whip it good.”
My girlfriends & I know how to throw “girls’ night”.
Not going out to party but…well… baking & enjoying good fellowship together.
I’ve had a lot of women approach me & say:
“How do you create all this? You must have something I don’t have! That is just SO intimidating to me. I can handle [insert some impressive career project] over 768 employees; but my husband knows, do NOT ask Bertha to bake him anything beyond a microwave meal!”
*Woman laughs as I search for something to even say to that.*
“No, girl, it’s really not that difficult. It isn’t rocket science,” – only invites an even more awkward explanation to get me to understand just how inept they are in the kitchen.
Hey, nobody said you had to make a Croquembouche with a wispy sugar dome embellishment for your husband’s 40th birthday!
Personally, I strongly believe that God gave every woman a creative side. But that’s not based on hard evidence.
Doesn’t mean we’ll be experts at it all (I certainly am not). But I love the array of opportunities to express ourselves – as women – creatively.
I find it humorous & often bring it up in jest that my group of friends here consists of doctors, dieticians, physical therapists, psychiatrists, etc. ..& I’m the dessert & hors d’oeuvres caterer.
But who said we all have to be the same?
We’re all girls. We love food. & we love expressing creativity when the opportunity presents itself.
My one speech therapist friend & I realised we really bonded when I had her over for the first time for Pesach & neither of us could leave the creme puffs tray.
I love profiteroles because they look like you put a lot of effort into them – especially when you say things like: “how’s that chaux pastry coming along there??”.
They take a max of 15-20min to prepare, & as far as fillings go: the sky is the limit
Plus, they’re so light you can’t tell the difference between popping 2 OR 20 in your mouth…
We assembled the creme puffs with many giggles & (quite naturally) much “poison testing”.
I wanted to have a photo shoot of our creation so I quickly made a chocolate-ganache syrup & pulled out my absolute favourite chocolate dessert garnish: Charcoal Black Salt.
I love how Most Yummy Today! coined our photos best: “creme puffs gone acrobatic!”
“Whip it. Whip it good”
Several years ago, my family & I were invited to have Shabbat dinner with our Israeli friends in Pittsburgh.
Best decision of our lives.
Ronit’s Chicken Schawarma has been imprinted on my mind ever since. For years, I have waited (in vain) for another blessed Israeli to make me this dish.
It never occurred to me that I could make it for myself.
But God knew I had to put a gap between that special Shabbat dinner & my own attempt. That way my memory of its exact taste would be vague & I would save myself from the disappointment of not making an exact replica.
So, after 6 +/- years, I finally summoned up the the guts to try it.
I bit the bullet & researched “Israeli Chicken Schawarma”.
Second best decision of my life.
Cajuns coin it best: “It’s slap your mama good!”
“Whip it. Whip it good.”
I love 80s music.
But this particular line has haunted me as I nearly stressed over my lax blogosphere representation.
Although, my goal is to post – on average – once a week, I’m afraid I have even exhausted that grace period.
We’ve had a lovely busy past two weeks.
Now, my poor brain is persevering as I overcome the effects of anaesthetics from a 5yr-overdue extraction of impacted wisdom teeth.
Yes, I’m beseeching you to pity me & tell me that everything’s Ok & you’ll continue to regularly view & support my blog.
However, if my PSYOP wasn’t successful, I want you to look down at that plate of solid food in front of you that may be obstructed by Today’s newspaper you’re reading over a hot cup of Joe.
If you’re not eating, pay attention to those mouth-watering burger adverts OR food billboards OR wafting smells from restaurant kitchens as you drive by… These seemingly little senses are huge in the estimation of a person who is watching her family eat homemade chocolate-espresso cake for her brother’s birthday.
And she can’t have it.
So, I urge you today to put the newspaper down & take an extra bite out of that solid piece of food OR an extra sip of that hot beverage on my behalf & the behalf of others like me.
As for me? I’ll just continue to sip my smoothie & salivate over this photo of a Swedish bakery my friend so lovingly taunted me with.
“Whip it. Whip it good.”
So, I’m kind of being funny in the title. The many, many people who lend help and support to me are so very much more to me than could (or should) ever be summed up in a title or a post.
But! The two lovelies to whom I have dedicated this post, know how much I love them…
& love to tease them.
Hence, the cheeky denomination: “my worker bees”
Meet my youngest sister, Gabbi. 15 yrs old & pure genius.
I remember watching her birth & I am still trying to reason in my mind
where all the years have gone. She is a ray of sunshine & I can’t imagine life without her.
She is also my personal food photographer.
Here is my other occasional food photographer & one of Gabbi’s partners-in-crime.
Rylan is an incredible young man, to say the least. My friends hardly believed me when
(after meeting him)
they found out he was only 17yrs old.
God has greatly gifted these two & Douceur has benefited from their passion for photography.
Allow me to brag…
Here, they so elegantly captured one of my favourites: Espresso-Shot Chocolate Cupcake.
As you’ll learn… I rarely follow the rules when I bake. I am a strong believer in secret ingredients such as
passion, personality, an extra pinch of this, & a dash of “I’m sure that won’t really change anything”.
– Practices that would make any faithful culinary arts student cringe.
However, I do try to keep this principle in mind:
serve them as you would desire to be served.
Gabbi is quite patient with me.
Photography is not my realm & I am learning that it is ~ indeed ~ an art.
After what felt like 3000 shots,
Gabbi “wow-ed” me with exactly what I envisioned.
Upon seeing the photo above, one client immediately turned to Gabbi
with an offer if she would be willing to do her daughter’s wedding shoot.
Never scorn youth.
Give them a standard to live up to & you’ll see that they will meet it.
My father encouraged us when we were young to commit ourselves to the
discipline of our various gifts, interests, or passions.
Even today, he & my mom are our biggest cheerleaders.
It is incredible seeing what God is already doing as my siblings & I work
together to achieve our goals.
Family is a gift.
I am not a huge fan of brownies, but I like to have little competitions with myself.
Whatever food I don’t much prefer, I attempt to recreate in such a way that people with similar taste
to mine can actually enjoy it.
These are my Double Chocolate Hazelnut Fudge Brownies…
…Which are an evolution of King Arthur’s Fudge Brownies.
“Well, I never compliment myself, but my friends tell me I certainly know how to make a sandwich…” – Mrs. Elton, Jane Austin’s “Emma”
When we moved here, my friends introduced me to a little shop called “The Bakers Bin”.
I basically live there.
The staff greet me by name & I love seeing the age-progressed photos of one staff member’s son,
or listening to every milestone & achievement in his young life.
Almost since I have known about The Bakers Bin, I have eyed these cute mini bundt pans
but never had a valid excuse to purchase them for Douceur.
I am a sucker for miniatures.
Well, the occasion finally arose & I purchased them.
My first batch: Lemon Bundt
“There is a hole in this cake.” – Mrs. Portokolas
“Whip it. Whip it good.”
Hello & welcome to my food blog!
I have attempted many times to maintain a blog; but I mostly found myself blah blah blah-ing with no discernible trajectory.
Now?
I find myself a little more ready for this…
Besides my love for fashion & other random outlets for creativity, I am passionate about food.
You might look at my title & wonder, “A Boiled Egg?? Ok?”
When I was contemplating the various titles I wrote down, I began to evaluate what history is behind each name.
Firstly, I absolutely LOVE breakfast. Thanks to Sesame Street, it was engrained in my mind just what an important meal breakfast is.
It really kick-starts the day.
Especially a hardy breakfast.
My mom had me in the kitchen around 9 or 10; but I really started to learn & contribute around 12yrs of age. My parents taught us that every breakfast requires a protein & our faithful go-to protein is eggs.
As kids, we especially liked boiled eggs.
They’re quick, easy protein & darn good with salt & pepper.
When we were little, we always boiled our eggs in a handy contraption made to look like a hen. After an unpredictable – often varying – amount of time, the hen would announce its finished product with an ear-splitting fortissimo, that could send a grown man running.
You might have heard someone tease, “they couldn’t even boil water”. But there is an art to even the simplest gestures in the kitchen, my friends, & of that art I became a student the first time I ever tried to boil an egg in a pot.
I was just not going to settle for having the egg white tear off with the shell.
My tutor came in the form of a book I was given with hundreds of kitchen tips, for my 16th birthday.
One of those tips: How To Boil An Egg.
My hero.
The boiled egg was among my first culinary struggles, & has influenced the way I studiously engage my task as a maker of good food.
From there, eggs were revolutionised in the Whitlock kitchen. We dreamed up ideas. Savoury waffles with poached eggs & white wine Hollandaise sauce… Aunt Anna’s Breakfast Surprise (Monterey Jack Cream sauce poured over a tomato & poached egg Benedict.), etc.
Although my blog revolves around my favourite meal & breakfast item, it will include an everyday culinary glimpse into the Whitlock household.
You may find yourself in the kitchen with us, OR at the dinner table.
I have recently launched a private events catering business, which I will also blog about.
Partly because of my love for food, I find delight in interacting with new cultures & ideas. So please, don’t sit silently. This is a round-table feast & your thoughts are welcomed!
Enjoy the feast!
“Whip it. Whip it good.”
A Boiled Egg 