Early birthday celebrations

Yesterday, my friends Marie and Mike held an early birthday party for me.  Marie, who is the party planning queen among our troupe, asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday a few weeks back, and it was tough coming up with something somewhat original.  I mean, my birthday is actually Wednesday, the 27th, which makes an inconvenient time to stay up and drink/party for those of us who work the following day, which would have been everyone.  Even I can’t stay up late, since I’ve got to be at the airport at 5 am in the morning Thursday to go to Seattle.

Since I’d be in Seattle on the weekend after my birthday, that left the weekend prior.  I opted for something that would enable a small gathering of folks to get together and hang out.  Thus, the idea for a cheese party was born.  This was the e-mail I sent to my friends whom I invited:
 
Subject:  for my birthday, we’re cutting the cheese

Hey there, movers and shakers. 

To celebrate the momentous occasion of my divine birth, hostess-with-the-mostess Marie will be holding a cheese party this Sunday, the 24th, at the MMM Mansion on Ferncreek at 5 pm.  She has asked me to send out invites to people, and here it is: an invitation.

So, your presence is requested at ~~~ Ferncreek Avenue on Sunday, August 24th, at 5 pm Eastern Standard Time.  Please bring along the following items:

1. A tasty block of cheese

2. A tasty beverage accompaniment suitable for quaffing down with cheese and crackers, which means no bad beer.

Because we are in a recession, I will completely understand if you cannot manage to bring one of the above items, but at the very least, bring along a hunk of cheese.  My birthday (which is actually on the 27th) will be used as an occasion for us to all get together and try out different nibblies we normally don’t get around to enjoying often, especially some of the more exotic, fancy cheeses in the Whole Foods cheese bin (but you don’t have to go to Whole Foods for your block of dairy goodness).  If you’d like to bring a friend, please ask that he or she contribute to the cheese education cause, or perhaps some crackers, fruit, magic dippy stuff, or drinks.

For beer and cheese pairings, feel free to refer to this article for ideas: Delicate Pairings of Beer and Cheese.  For those of you who may only think of cheese as Velveeta, which I don’t think is any of you, this article on Cheese Varieties can help you get started on making a selection.  If you’d like to bring along some other accompaniments, here’s a Guide to Cheese Condiments.

Please RSVP, and let me know if you’re bringing along any guests.

 

Anyway, naturally the e-mail went out to more recipients than attendees… in fact I think only my friend Kate replied for her and Rob.  Yep, this is why Kate is on my speed dial–not only will she bring you back jam from the wilds of Tennessee, but she will let you know that she’ll be somewhere, or not.  Ah well, my group of friends is tiny and small, but they’ve got spirit, and I had a fantastic time with a kick-ass cake and loads of different types of cheese.

Seriously, the cake was the shit: a chocolate cake with buttercream frosting lookin’ like a cheese round, complete with fondant mice and a fondant cat, just ‘cuz.  I’m sure once people see the cake, and all the cheese, they’ll wish they were there at Mike & Marie’s, too.

Even better, Marie took all the leftover cheese and crackers and made a fabulous mac n’ cheese this evening that was superb, it was like the party continued the next evening with a guest who couldn’t make it the previous night. 

I’d like to thank everyone who showed up yesterday evening, and a big high-five to Kate for the pillows, Mike and Marie for the cookbook and for hosting the event, and a squeeze for Hao… because he’s Hao.

But my birthday doesn’t end there!  There’s the monthly office “cake day” tomorrow in my department for everyone whose birthday is this month (four of us), then on Wednesday, I have Ethiopian food to look forward to with my parents for lunch, and after that, Seattle and Debbie’s wedding!  I might get to go out to dinner on my birthday, too.  I won’t push it, though.  At the very least, I think it’s high time I make some madeleines with my pan I bought last month prior to my wrist injury.

Happy birthday to me.

Gettin’ all Martha up in my parents’ kitchen

I’m more exhausted than usual after making a cake, because I made this particular cake at my parents’ house. Since I’m living with them, this is the first time I’ve baked anything in their abode, and I admit, I was having some serious moments–shock and awe–upon realising how unprepared my parents’ kitchen was for me.

It all started with these wild lemons my parents got from my Aunt Becky’s ranch. These warty-skinned wonders looked up at me from the basket my parents have them in, and they begged to be made into a tart. Well, I haven’t tried my amateur hand at tarts yet, so the lemons and I agreed upon a cake instead. I looked at the ingredients of an orange cake recipe I had (which I had altered to create this Glazed Orange Spice Cake), and determined the only things I needed to grab was some sour cream and powdered sugar.

So it was off to the nearby Oviedo Publix, which had a lovely NASCAR display, nicely flanked by cubes of Molson Ice or some other nasty equivalent. I picked up the missing ingredients, calling as I meandered the aisles to ask my father how many eggs we had (“We got five!”), then threaded my way past the soccer and lacrosse moms to the check-out aisle, whereupon I believe I creeped the manager bagging my groceries with my “Candy from Strangers” reusable shop bag I got from BlueQ.

Anyhoo, so I get back to my parents, and grab a couple of bumpy wild lemons to zest. However, there’s a problem: my parents do not own a zester. They neither own a grater. Wait, they *think* they own one of the two… so a search ensues. My mother discovers here angel food cake pan, along with a little hand juicer she bought at Publix, but no dice with the zester or a cheese grater. So, after a poor attempt to zest with a steak knife, I moved onto an apple peeler, which produced less than the 4 teaspoons of required zest in an uneven fashion. Oh well, no big deal, it’s good enough.

Then comes the time to measure the ingredients, and so ensues another hunt for measuring cups and spoons. After much, much digging, and some suggestions I outright refused, including what appeared to be the cup for cough syrup (“Well, that’s a teaspoon right there at the notch.”), Ma finally procures a set of measuring cups and a lone measuring spoon–1/2 teaspoon. Lucky for me, the recipe didn’t need anything measured in tablespoons, so I pressed on, considering the irony of the Bed, Bath & Beyond gift certificate I received this past Christmas, when maybe my parents should have picked up a set of measuring spoons with it instead. And a grater, or even more fancy, a microplane.

When it came time for the eggs, I opened up the fridge and, sure enough, there were five eggs. I only needed two, but there was, again, another problem: the eggs had a “Best before” date of January 25th. Folks, that was a month ago to the day.

So, I went back to Publix at around 8 pm, which is around the time most of the single men tend to do their Publix shopping, loading their carts and baskets with frozen foods and Molson Ice. I plunked in my basket eggs (“Best before March 30 ‘08″), measuring spoons and a grater.

After that, I didn’t run into any more problems, and the cake looks good. My ma’s been sticking her face in the cake since it’s been done, and I have to shoo her away, and I poured a lemon glaze over the top. I’ve got to say, it can be pretty exasperating baking and cooking in someone else’s kitchen. I remember the last time I had this much trouble, it was when I was baking biscuits at Mike George’s apartment. The poor man didn’t even have any knives, aside from his pocket knife that he offered, which I declined. I had to wait for Clark to come with a knife from his house so I could cut the dough into little squares for the biscuits.

To be fair, though, everyone’s kitchen is suited to them and how they make–or in some cases, just heat or reheat–food. My parents’ kitchen works for them for the most part, and that’s the important thing. I don’t plan on baking on a daily basis here, although I’m sure my mother would love it if I did.

So what does this wild lemon cake taste like? To be honest… I’m too tired to try it out right now. I took a photo on my digital camera of it post-glaze, and I’m about to cut it in half so that I can take a portion to my someone tomorrow. Of course, I have to relate my tale of guerrilla baking to him in order for there to be an understanding as to all that I went through to make this lemon cake.

I don’t think he reads my blog.

But, apparently, my Granny does! Hey, Granny!

Art that’s a Piece of Cake

There was a link to this article in my recent VenusZine newsletter, and I thought I’d share. It’s about Amy Stevens, an artist who takes photographs of rather over-the-top kitchy cakes she makes, some of which you can see in the little gallery in the article. The fabrics used as background for the cakes really take the whole piece up to a level of overload.

Sounds fun, doesn’t it? I thought so. Here’s the article from VenusZine: Avant garde confectioneries. You can see more of Stevens’ work on her webste, amystevensart.com, which isn’t just limited to her cake photos.