Writing II (Too)

PLAYING THE LEAD: YOUR ROLE AS A WRITER

I have no particular talent. I am merely inquisitive.

– Albert Einstein 

For Part I A Skillful Understanding link here.

“But I can’t write!” a student at Plate to Page wails as she clutches her camera desperately to her chest. “I came to improve my photography!” or “Oh, but you have talent, I don’t!” a friend and fellow blogger will tell me. “And writing takes so much talent!” But, really, what is talent? Who judges who has talent and who doesn’t? Can we be good at something without talent – or bypassing the whole notion of talent?

Talent is elusive, ambiguous. Mysterious.

Talent, as far as I am concerned, is a mixture of passion, desire, curiosity and effort – that old blood, sweat and tears. Toss in knowledge, experience, patience and a creative imagination and one can do most anything. I will admit that some people are better than others at one thing or another – I will never be the photographer that many of my friends are, but I also don’t take the time to improve much beyond where I am at now. I always thought I could not draw to save my life until a friend of mine patiently stood by me, coaxed me, coached and advised me, made me work at a sketch of fruit, charcoal on white, until I had a lovely semblance of pear, apple and banana. Certainly, some may have more of some je ne sais quoi than another, but that should keep no one from being the best they can.

It reminds me of a quote from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice:

``My fingers,'' said Elizabeth (as she sits at the piano), ``do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault -- because I would not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman's of superior execution.''

If you can't excel with talent, triumph with effort. 

– Dave Weinbaum 

In my introductory post, I pointed out that writing is a skill just like photography. A skill that can be learned and mastered. But first we must understand just what your role as a writer is. And, more specifically, a food writer (or a writer writing about food!). You might decide that you write to inform your readers about new food trends or old food traditions, dangers of certain foods or the latest agro-political updates: quite possibly you have chosen to blog about nutrition or a particular country’s cuisine; perhaps you instruct others how to bake from scratch or introduce the less knowledgeable to new and unique spices, herbs or condiments; maybe your food bent is geared towards gluten-free, vegan or paleo. Or maybe you just desire to tell stories about the food you prepare, the places you have traveled or the producers behind the ingredients.

But whichever and whatever you are blogging or writing about you must connect with, engage and, in some way, entertain your readers. Your role as a writer is to manipulate your reader’s emotions, evoke an emotional response, inspire nostalgia or inspire action, bring them into your world, stimulate their senses. In other words, you want your readers to think, feel and desire.

What was that you said? Whether writing about the historical or symbolic significance of a food or a dish, whether supplying readers with information be it nutritional or health facts, cultural roots, information about a certain style of eating/diet or whether regaling readers with a personal tale, one must engage the readers, connect on a personal level, entertain them and make them feel as if the post was written personally for them. Don’t simply toss food at them.

Don’t just show them a pretty picture, something flashy and immediate. Invite them in and nourish them intellectually, creatively and emotionally.

And there really is only one way to do this successfully: Understand the ins and outs of writing as a skill; improve those writing skills. Learn how to tell a story. But above all, be fearless. Allow yourself to think out of the box and not be hemmed in either by the limitations and “rules” you have put upon yourself or those that you imagine are imposed upon you from what you see in the world of food blogging. Be creative! But there are a few rules I will set down:

Learn and get used to using Word Docs: Never write a blog post directly into your blogger or wordpress (or other) dashboard. Always compose on a separate word doc. This will take away the pressure to simply “write and publish”.

Install spellcheck and grammarcheck in your Word Doc: we all make mistakes, but don’t always catch them. Typos, double words, punctuation errors, grammar mishaps… even when we proofread a page twenty times, we still may miss one or the other. Spellcheck and grammarcheck are worth their weight in gold. Think of them as your own private copy editor!

Find your own natural voice and writing style: There are a lot of excellent writers out there. Although I will explain to you how to be inspired by their writing, how to learn from their writing, never feel that you must copy their style in order to be a “good writer”. Don’t simply go to your thesaurus and pick out cool, “writerly” words and expressions. I will write about how to find – and develop – your own voice.

Everyone has talent. What is rare is the courage to follow 

the talent to the dark place where it leads. 

– Erica Jong 

Now that we are set, now that we have gotten past the “I can’t” or “I have no talent” – and please do not even get me started on “the writing doesn’t really matter on blogs!” – we can begin. . . .

FINDING YOUR VOICE: PART I (props)

Unlike photography – or many other crafts – writing is difficult to separate out and talk about the equipment (language) on its own. Yes, one can (and sometimes should) pull out a good old-fashioned English primer and study up on one’s verb conjugation or sentence structure. Yes, many people should learn to differentiate between slang or text-speak and real live proper language and vocabulary. But while one can practice basic as well as more advanced photography skills with a single apple or the rose bushes out in one’s front yard, developing your writing is best done by bringing all of the elements together from the beginning as well as working with as many props as possible.

What one must first learn to do is, as a writing instructor once told me, become process-centered not product-centered. Stop thinking “I am going to sit down and write that post about my husband’s chocolate layer cake!” Begin thinking “chocolate cake….layer cake…husband… how does that make me feel? Of what does it make me think? How can I express these thoughts and feelings and my own desires? How can I communicate this to my readers? What words do I have at my command?

There are many resources that we have at our disposal, yet it all starts with the props. So let’s first turn to our props! What food blogger doesn’t love to prop shop? And what are the writer’s props? Words! Vocabulary! Expressions! Onomatopoeia, similes, metaphors and other groovy language toys and tools. And how does a writer prop shop?

Read! Without an extensive vocabulary at our fingertips, we are limited in what we can do as a writer. The greater our vocabulary, the more able we are to develop our own voice, find inspiration when we are blocked or at a loss….for words, create a mood, evoke an emotion and stimulate the senses. Simply flipping through a thesaurus does give us loads of great words to choose from, but they are not OUR words! As a writer, you want to OWN your props, your words.

The first thing I always recommend a student, a writer, a blogger is to read! Read everything: newspapers, magazines, blogs and websites, books; read different genres (news, op eds, murder mysteries and chick lit, fiction and non-fiction, how-to books, biographies and diaries, this century, last and the one before). But don’t just read. Study. Read in a way that you notice new words, new ways an author expresses something, how a writer brings a topic or a character alive, makes their voice sing in your head. And as you discover new words and expressions, use them, integrate them into your speaking voice. Once a word becomes naturally part of your speaking vocabulary (your voice), then will it become part of your natural writing vocabulary, and part of your own natural writing voice. Only then can you begin to fulfill your role as a writer.

(Next week: FINDING YOUR VOICE: PART II)
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Crunchy Seed Crackers for Bread Baking Babes

LA RENTRÉE – BACK TO NORMAL

Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile. 

- William Cullen Bryant

This has certainly been one of those odd, between-season weeks. One day we are enjoying cool late afternoon cocktails on a café terrace, sweaters off and hung over the backs of our chairs, faces turned up to drink in the glowing warmth of summer’s heat, and the next we are bundled up in fleece and socks, warming our hands around mugs of steamy coffee, huddled in our apartment watching bad tv. The rain and the sun take turns walking the streets; I imagine them doing the old Paper-Rock-Scissors thing in the dead of night, deciding by random which one will spend the day with us. We wake up every morning, this long stretch of September, not knowing what kind of a day it will be. And we are rather exhausted by the flip-flopping, this emotional tug of war. Both husband and dog droop around the house when the weather is gray and rainy, pots of coffee are brewed and drunk, soup is poured from tins. But if this is what it takes to turn summer into autumn, then I will gladly suffer the whims of Mother Nature.

I adore autumn. I bask in the glow of autumn. I am energized by the golden vitality of autumn.

I finally received my very own copies of The Art of Eating, the issue with my article in it about good old-fashioned Blanquette de Veau. I couldn’t be happier! The magazine is stunning!

I have also been planning next year’s teaching/workshop and speaking/conference schedule and it looks like it will be a busy year! Keep your pens poised and your date books at the ready! And stay tuned for a second post in the series on Writing as well as more travel images of my beautiful city, Nantes.

I’ve been rather lethargic all summer long. The heat brings out the sloth that lives deep within and as others tire me out with their talk of vacations, as the Nantais scuttle off to the seaside, the mountains or some far-away exotic hot spot, we have been… working. And hanging around, watching films, reading books and discussing the American Civil War. Passionately. When the cooking bug hit JP time after time, I sat back and watched him slave away in the kitchen with great pleasure. He kept me fed and happy. But I rarely could gather up the energy to cook or bake. Yet with the advent of autumn, glorious autumn, I have found myself in the kitchen more often, running my fingers through flour, breathing in the heady scents of cocoa and vanilla, rolling chilly eggs around in my fingers and capping and uncapping bottles of olive oil.

This month’s Bread Baking Babes’ challenge was no challenge at all. Well, almost. The lovely Tanna of My Kitchen in Half Cups asked the Babes to bake crackers! Seedy, crunchy crackers! It was one of those recipes that I find perfect for a lazy day, when one wants to bake but… really doesn’t. Or doesn’t want something so time consuming, so complicated and exhausted that, halfway through, one wants to drops everything, mess and all, and go to bed. Easy peasy, these crackers were and so delicious, so good, so addictively good that I cannot stop eating them.

I must say that mine did not come out as thin and crispy as they should have (check out Elle’s or Ilva’s or Elizabeth’s or Heather’s or Tanna’s own to see thin and crispy!) but slightly too dense and chewy. But I still cannot stop eating them. And they are good enough and easy enough that I am more than willing to make them again until I get them right.

If you want to make this bread with us and be a Bread Baking Buddy, click over to Tanna at My Kitchen In Half Cups to get all the details. But before you do that, check out if and how the other Babes baked their Crunch Crackers:

Bake My Day – Karen
Bread Baking Babe Bibliothécaire – Katie
blog from OUR kitchen – Elizabeth
Feeding my enthusiasms – Elle
girlichef – Heather
Lucullian Delights - Ilva
Living in the Kitchen with Puppies – Natashya
My Kitchen In Half Cups – Tanna
Notitie Van Lien – Lien
Paulchens Foodblog – Astrid
Provecho Peru – Gretchen

I want to share these crackers with Susan of Wild Yeast for her weekly Yeastspotting!

CRUNCHY SEED CRACKERS
(For the original recipe visit Tanna’s blog My Kitchen in Half Cups)

For the cracker dough:
190 g white or white whole wheat flour
100 g spelt flour (or replace with more white whole wheat)
30 g ground flax seeds (Ilva replaced with ground almonds)
2 Tbs light brown granulated sugar
1 tsp active dry yeast
1 tsp salt
200 – 225 ml warm water
2 Tbs unsalted mixed seeds (I used a combination of pumpkin, sunflower seeds and pine nuts; you can use a combination of flax, sesame and sunflower seeds)

For the topping:
Water
Unsalted seeds, - either 70 g sunflower + 30 g sesame seeds or 100 g mixed seeds (I used the same combination as for the dough)
Fleur de sel or flaked sea salt

In a medium to large mixing bowl, combine the two flours and the salt. Make a slight well in the center and add the brown sugar and the yeast without mixing. Pour on 200 ml of the water; allow to activate for about 10 minutes.

Once the yeast is slightly foamy, add the two tablespoons seeds and mix everything together until well blended and all of the dry ingredients are moistened. Add the last 25 ml water as needed.

Turn out onto a floured surface and knead until you have a smooth dough, adding flour if the dough sticks. This should be a fairly dry dough.

Place the dough in a lightly greased (I used olive oil) medium-sized bowl, turning to make sure the dough is lightly coated with oil, cover the bowl with plastic wrap and a clean kitchen towel. Allow the dough to rise for 60 to 90 minutes until slightly expanded.

After the rise, scrap the dough out onto a floured surface and divide in half. Working one half at a time, roll the dough into a 14 x 9-inc rectangle, as thin as possible but no thicker than 1/8-inch thick. If need be, let the dough rest and roll a second time. Lift the dough rectangle onto a piece of parchment paper the size of your baking sheet and run the rolling pin over it again to resize if needed. Spritz the surface of the dough with water or brush all over with a light coating of water. Sprinkle half of the seeds evenly over the surface of the rectangle and then dust with the fleur de sel or salt flakes. Place a large piece of plastic wrap over the seeded dough and, using the rolling pin, roll and press the seeds into the dough. Slide the parchment onto a baking sheet and allow the dough to rest for about 30 minutes while you preheat the oven.

Repeat with the second half of the dough.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Carefully peel the plastic wrap off of the dough. Using a sharp knife (dip the blade into flour between cuts) cut the dough carefully into squares or rectangles. Bake for 20 – 25 minutes (depending on your oven). Turn off the oven but leave the crackers in the closed oven for an additional 15 minutes. Then open the oven door slightly and allow the crackers to cool completely.

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Chocolate Spice Cake with Sour Black Cherries

FOUR YEARS HAS FLOWN BY ON ANGELS' WINGS

Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven 

where the love of our lost ones pours through 

and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy. 

– Eskimo proverb 

It has been raining hard outside since before dawn. The sky, that hazy pewter gray, undefined. Sorrow has washed over the city turning stunning, regal white into dirty, unkempt beige. They say that the rain should wash a city clean, yet it only seems to muddy everything, evoke a sadness that lies hidden underneath, a sadness that smolders just below the surface in better times, brighter days. People, bundled up and shrouded underneath hoods and umbrellas, scurry across the square and disappear into the distance. I stare down at the scene from my window above. 

I’ve baked a chocolate cake! Such joy! I sometimes bake treats that leave my men indifferent, no one in the mood. I sometimes concoct cakes, breads or puddings that lie unattended, forlorn. Utterly rejected by one and all. Yet this chocolate cake was a triumph! It was whittled away one slice after the next, divvied up and passed around. Before one full day had elapsed, half of the chocolate cake with a hint of cherry, a touch of cinnamon, tender and moist, had disappeared.

Mid afternoon; watery sunlight finally pushes itself through the brume and my contentment is tinged with melancholy as the New Year begins. The Jewish New Year is a time of joy, reflection and celebration. We ask to be inscribed in the Book of Life for the year to come, praying for a sweet year. Yet Michael was buried on the Eve of Rosh Hashanah; we saw in that New Year in front of a wooden casket under the searing Florida sun. A New Year awash in tears. Now I cannot but think of him as the holiday approaches, as we celebrate, as we begin afresh. Joy obscured by sadness.

The heart that truly loves never forgets. 

- Proverb 

It has been four years since the death of my brother Michael. Time spins by, my sons grow up, my husband and I make decisions, begin new careers, life plans change. Yet Michael is missing. No more phone calls or letters, no more visits or meeting up at mom’s in Florida. I approach the New Year with a heavy heart, the broken heart that I carry with me every day.

I am naturally reflective and tend to get rather mournful and maudlin. Yet with a family around me, I rarely allow myself the decadence of wallowing in my sadness and memories for long. Photographs slide around my desktop, among the empty coffee mugs and cake crumbs, and I think of him. Startled, I catch glimpses of him in my son’s movements, the lilt of his voice, his laugh, the way he speaks with his hands or taps out a tune with the same tapered fingers. One is always fearful of forgetting the sound of a loved one’s voice, forgetting the features of his or her face, yet in some strange twist of destiny, my brother has slipped back into my life in my own son. My brother was an extraordinary person. Smart, vivacious, fearless. He did what he loved – travel, music, cooking – with intelligence, passion and enthusiasm; he inspired others; he connected and brought together so many of us who would otherwise have lost touch. I hope my son does follow in his footsteps.

A rabbi once offered a group of us a religious conundrum: If a funeral procession meets a wedding procession at a crossroads, which stops and allows the other to pass first? We argued the question back and forth as only a circle of teens can do, tossing out words such as respect, deference, honor. He finally brought us back around to the question and his answer was, in fact, quite simple and has remained with me to this day. In the Jewish faith, it is always the wedding procession that has the right of way. Life always takes precedence over death. And so I place the thoughts of my brother back in their secret little box, brush the sadness aside and turn back to my family, my sons.

Late afternoon; the sun reaches through the window and touches me as I type. The brilliance of an autumn day cheers me and pulls me out of my wistful recollections, urging me to get up and out. Thoughts of my brother lighten and I flick through the photos looking for moments of laughter echoing from the past. I think of the silly things we did, the song-and-dance acts we put on in the family room, smuggling purloined candy and marshmallows into the room we shared at my grandparents’ house in the dead of night, in fear of discovery and sure punishment… and spending half the night on our bellies, groping around in the darkness, under beds and tables trying to gather up the candy and marshmallows that had tumbled from our hands. Or taking my two little boys to the beach, Michael spending hours helping tiny toddler Simon overcome his fear of sand and water, Clem dancing around and around them, the three of them screeching in excitement as they jumped waves.

Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us 

– Oscar Wilde 

Michael S Schler

April 9, 1957 - September 15, 2009

The last thing I made for Michael was a chocolate cake. I fed him thick wedges of that chocolate cake with scoops of ice cream, hoping to plump him back up. Maybe somewhere deep down, I kind of hoped that somehow my love and the food I fed him, the chicken and Brussel sprouts, the Organic Chicken Pot Pies, the bagels and lox, the treats I picked up from the neighborhood bakery, the chocolate cake and ice cream would miraculously save him.

I know he would have loved this chocolate cake. My husband and sons did. And more. “Another chocolate cake?” one cries. “A different chocolate cake than the only one I like?” snarls another. Yet as soon as it was turned out of the pan and onto the plate, eyes lit up. One slice led to the next… tender and delicate, perfect crumb, moist without being too dense or gooey. A lovely delicate chocolate flavor not too sweet, not too dark. Just right. 

CHOCOLATE SPICE CAKE WITH SOUR BLACK CHERRIES

Makes one 9-inch (23 cm) Bundt – can also be baked in layers or in a loaf pan but adjust baking time as needed. (Thank you to my wonderful friend Jenni Field of Pastry Chef Online who helped me figure out the correct amount of flour to put into the recipe)

7 Tbs (100 g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1 cup (200 g) sugar
2 large eggs at room temperature
1 ¾ cup (230 g) flour
3 Tbs (25 g) unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp ground cinnamon
½ tsp cloves, optional
¼ tsp salt
¾ cup (scant 200 ml) milk
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 small jar sour black cherries (griottes) in syrup – or replace with my Rum Roasted Cherries – cherries and juice

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Butter a 9-inch (23 cm) Bundt pan – (or two 9-inch layer cake pans or one loaf pan).

Place the softened butter and the sugar in a large mixing bowl. Using a hand or stand mixer, cream the butter and sugar for 3 to 5 minutes until thick, smooth and doubled in volume. Beat in the eggs one at a time, beating for a minute after each addition to increase the volume of the batter.

Stir or sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, cinnamon, cloves and salt in a separate bowl.

Add the dry ingredients to the batter in three additions, alternating with the milk in two, beginning and ending in dry, beating after each addition until well blended. Beat in the vanilla as well as 1 – 2 tablespoons of the cherry syrup.

If you want more of the cherries in the cake, simply fold 2 - 3 tablespoons of the drained cherries into the batter. This will be particularly good if using my rum roasted cherries.

If using a Bundt pan, place a row of cherries – let the juice drip off back into the jar – around the bottom of the pan around the tube. Carefully ladle the batter into the pan on top of the cherries so the cherries aren’t pushed out of line. Scrape out the rest of the batter into the pan, gently smooth the top if needed and place in the preheated oven.

Bake for 45 – 50 minutes (Note: if using layer cake pans or a loaf pan and depending upon your oven, baking times may vary greatly, so begin checking the cake for doneness after 35 minutes.) The cake is done when a tester stuck into the center of the cake comes out clean - or cleanish, with no liquid batter.

Remove from the oven onto cooling racks and allow to cool for 10 – 15 minutes before gently shaking the cake lose and turning it out of the baking pan and onto a cooling rack to cool completely.

Slide the cake onto a serving platter, dust with a bit of cocoa powder and serve. For an elegant dessert, serve the cake with very lightly sweetened whipped cream or ice cream topped with more of the cherries and a drizzle of syrup.

Take a bigger bite ...

LET'S TALK WRITING

SESSION I : A SKILLFUL UNDERSTANDING

There is nothing to writing. 

All you do is sit down at the typewriter and bleed. 

- Ernest Hemingway

I used Grammarly to grammar check this post, because as a Captain in the Grammar Police, I demand respect! *

Sometimes I feel that writing is like marriage. It takes a lot of hard work. The more time passes, the more we are in the relationship, the more we understand and build on that newfound understanding, one step at a time, in a never-ending attempt to get better at the whole darn thing. It is a constant struggle abounding in frustration, complications and compromises. And patience. Tremendous patience. Yet, swept up in the burning passion and desire, driven by love, we are certainly able to weather the rough storms that keep cropping up on the horizon. We strive to evolve, develop our skill and our knowledge in a constant effort to reach higher and farther, to improve and get it right.

But for all practical purposes, one must compare food writing to food photography.

Over the years I have learned that bloggers treat photography and writing differently. They understand the steps to what they consider a successful photograph. They are prepared to invest mightily in their photography: they buy cameras and lenses after lengthy discussions on Facebook, they invest in lighting equipment and learn how to take photos in natural light vs artificial light vs low-light situations. They invest in Photoshop or Lightroom and learn how to post process their photos – cropping, adjusting and redefining color, light, intensity, etc – to achieve the best possible image. They invest in props – backgrounds, linens, cutlery, dishes, holiday decorations, etc - and learn how to use them to the best of their advantage.

Food bloggers do understand that the secret to a beautiful photograph, one that tells a story, creates an ambiance that draws the viewer in, evokes and incites an emotion, one that titillates the senses and makes the visitor stay, ogle, enjoy… want to eat the food pictured and want to come back again and again requires skill, time, effort and thought. The food blogger knows that the more control he or she has over each element, the more one is able to manipulate the image, the better the chance he or she has to produce a powerful and effective photograph.

Rare is the food blogger today that snaps one single photo, slaps it onto the blog and hits publish.

Yet, what about the writing? Few bloggers think of writing in the same light. “I can write therefore I am a writer!” Yet writing is an art just as is photography – just like cooking, painting, knitting, surgery for that matter. Both are skills in which the understanding and mastering of the equipment – the camera and lens for a photographer, language for a writer – is crucial. Both are skills in which the gestures require constant practice, attention and improvement. Writing, like photography, becomes more interesting the more props – words – we have at our command, yet those props – words – must be used correctly and to effect.

Okay, let’s back up and I will make this comparison clear.

Your equipment:
Photographer: camera and lenses
Writer: language

Your props:
Photographer: linens (tablecloths, napkins, dishtowels, backdrops), background surfaces, cutlery, dishes, holiday tools and decorations, antique utensils, backgrounds, serving platters, etc.
Writer: vocabulary, idiomatic expressions, similes, metaphors, adjectives, adverbs, etc.

Post-processing:
Photographer: editing with Photoshop, Lightroom, etc.
Writer: editing

Don't only think about your photos!

There is so much to say about writing. There is both a technical side of writing and a creative side of writing (storytelling), and, like any skill or craft, writing – good, interesting, effective writing, takes a long time to develop and evolve, learn and master. What I want to do is get you to look at and think about writing in a different way, from a different angle than you might normally do. In a series of posts, I will offer you my thoughts on the process, urging you to consider writing in a new light. I will offer my thoughts and ideas on everything from how to master the equipment, grow your prop collection (prop shopping for the writer!) and self-edit. I will give advice, explanations and tips. Feel free to leave any questions you might have on writing in the comment section! And away we go!

* This post was sponsored by Grammarly on-line grammar check. I rarely, if ever, agree to do a sponsored post, but as a writer, a writing instructor and someone who is passionate about language, I couldn’t but agree. The first thing – or one of the first things - I always point out to my students is (and the First Rule!) The Trifecta of Good Writing… (and respect for one’s readers):

1) Grammar
2) Spelling
3) Punctuation

Equip yourself with Spell Check and Grammar Check – or use a service like Grammarly.com! Inviting someone to read a post riddled with grammar, punctuation and spelling errors is like inviting someone to a dirty home; editing for these three things shows that you care!

For Part II Playing the Lead: Your Role as a Writer link here

Disclosure: I was offered an Amazon gift card (books!) in exchange for simply adding the opening line to this post. The decision to promote Grammarly and to write a post dedicated to writing as well as all words and opinions are my own.

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Honey Baked Custard with Caramelized Apples

HAPPY NEW YEAR

Behave so the aroma of your actions may 

enhance the general sweetness of the atmosphere. 

- Henry David Thoreau

How many plates of apples and honey do I remember ! Flimsy paper plates, too fragile to hold the weight of all of those slices of apples. Sitting in the classrooms behind the synagogue on those chilly folding metal chairs, we would pass around that paper plate, balance it on one small hand while choosing one slick slice of apple, dip it in the golden gooey honey and proffer the plate to our neighbor. Concentrated on the paper plate as we were, ever-fearful that it would tip and flop over, visions of apples tumbling to the floor, the honey perched on the tip of our own slice would slither down our fingers, leaving a sweet sticky remembrance of this special New Year treat. Apple slices eaten, fingers licked, we would listen as our teacher explained the significance of the sweet apples and honey.

How many years of High Holiday services at the synagogue do I remember? Sitting between our parents in the Temple for the first part of the service then spending the rest of the morning in the tiny stretch of classrooms in the back for Children’s Services. The clunky old plastic accordion walls which separated the space into individual classrooms would be pushed back to create one long open room. A shortened religious service dotted with songs and stories, followed by games would be our welcome into the New Year. Folding tables would be set up, laden with a cold buffet, bagels and lox, tuna salad and cold drinks, cakes and cookies. We would each fill one of those thin paper plate and snuggle into a chilly metal chair and happily dig in. Then the apples and honey, slippery apple slices surrounding sticky puddles of fragrant honey amid shouts of L’Shanah Tova! Happy New Year!

Little brother....

It is tradition to welcome the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, with round, sweet foods which represent the wish for a round, sweet year to follow. The customary holiday Challah, a long braided loaf, is twisted into a circle, a round loaf for Rosh Hashanah. Already slightly sweet, sometimes made even more festive by the addition of ground almonds or plump raisins, slices of Challah will be passed around, chunks torn off and then dipped, yes, that’s right, into honey. We eat new fruits as well, fruits of the approaching season that we haven’t yet tasted, such as the pomegranate, in order to thank God for bringing us to this new season. And fish, the symbol of fertility and abundance, all things wished for the coming year. And apples, of course. Apples and honey to be eaten together as we pray for a round year sweet from beginning to end and on and on, a never-ending circle.

Honey and apples are, of course, the most well known traditional foods eaten on the Jewish New Year and not only eaten as is. They are baked into cakes, honey cakes and apple cakes galore – everyone seems to have his or her own family recipe! Yet honey, apples and other sweet things like raisins, prunes, dates, plums or other seasonally sweet foods, also flavor the savory dishes served during the New Year Meal. I often serve the sweet and savory Lamb with Honey, Almonds and Prunes, a Rosh Hashanah traditional dish served at Sephardic celebrations. Chicken baked with cinnamon and apples or a honey-coated baked chicken with preserved lemons, both Joan Nathan recipes, are stunning, savory sweet additions to the holiday table. My mother’s Sweet and Sour Brisket will be our newest holiday addition.

I pull out my collection of old cookbooks: home recipes gathered and shared by this community organization or that synagogue Sisterhood, recipes I turn to again and again when the Jewish holidays come around. I place them next to my new battery of cookbooks, Jayne Cohen, Claudia Roden and Joan Nathan, among others, and flip through each looking for something new to make to mark this special celebration, the beginning of the holiest days in the Jewish year. “Why make yet another honey cake?” I ask myself. “Or an apple cake, for that matter?” I try and make something new each year, out of the ordinary. And this year, although the idea of Honey Cake crossed my mind, I decided to bring it in another direction.

A baked custard. I found a recipe for Baked Custard in my favorite old community cookbook Abigail Serves, The Choicest Recipes Presented by Sisters of Abigail No. 3 United Order of True Sisters. Albany, New York, 1956. My Great Aunt Mae was chairman. This group did community service and raised money for such varied things as equipping the kitchen of the local YW and YMCA, isotope treatments for the indigent at Albany hospital, playing checkers with or writing letters for local veterans or organizing birthday parties for them. They set up and equipped a room for Cerebral Palsy patients at the hospital and raised money for a Warppler Machine at Albany’s Memorial Hospital.

The cookbook is a treasure, filled with fabulous and homey recipes from meat borscht and gefilte fish to spring lamb stew and lemon sole casserole with cream sauce. From Heavenly Chocolate Cupcakes to Lemon Chiffon Pie. I dug around and came across a recipe for Baked Custard with several variations. I chose Baked Honey Custard and knew I would serve them with Honey-Caramelized Apples.

For a round, sweet Happy New Year.

BAKED HONEY CUSTARD

3 large eggs
½ cup (125 ml) runny (liquid) honey
¼ tsp salt
3 cups (700 ml) milk
½ tsp vanilla extract
Nutmeg

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Prepare 6 – 8 ramekins or oven-safe custard cups; place them in a baking pan that will hold water.

Place the 3 cups milk into a saucepan and gently (over low to medium heat) bring it just up to the boil. Immediately remove from the heat.

Whisk the 3 eggs in a medium to large bowl. Add the honey and salt and whisk briskly until well blended. Pour the scalded milk into the egg and honey mixture in a slow stream while whisking constantly. Once all of the milk has been blended in, stir in the vanilla.

Evenly divide between the custard cups which are already sitting on the baking pan – I find it easier to pour the liquid into a large measuring cup with a spout, which allows you to pour cleanly into the cups without making a mess. Dust the top of each custard with just a tiny pinch of nutmeg and place the baking pan in the preheated oven. Very carefully pour very hot water (tap water is fine) in the baking pan, around the custard cups, careful not to get any water in the custards.

Bake the custards for 40 – 50 minutes (the original recipe called for closer to 35 minutes for individual custard cups while mine baked closer to 50 minutes. Just check often.) The custards are done when set in the center – test by very gently touching the top of the custard or gently jiggling the pan. The will continue to firm up a bit when chilling.

When set, remove the pan from the oven and place on a cooling rack. Allow to cool for about 10 minutes. Carefully lift each custard from the water bath and place on a cooling rack until cool enough to refrigerate. Cover each in plastic wrap and chill.

HONEY CARAMELIZED APPLES

I play the quantities by ear; just don’t leave the apples cooking unattended.

1 apple or more, depending upon whether you want to top the custards with more than a heaping tablespoon - I find one apple is good for about 4 custards
Butter or margarine
Water
Honey
Rum, optional
Cinnamon or nutmeg, optional
Whipped cream for serving, optional

Peel and core the apples and chop into small cubes. Heat a small amount of butter or margarine – about a teaspoon per apple – in a skillet and toss in the apple cubes. Cook, tossing often, until the apples are tender. Add small amount of water occasionally as the apple cooks; the water will steam off but will help “poach” the apples and keep them moist while not allowing them to brown.

Once the apples are fork tender, drizzle on honey, maybe ½ - 1 tablespoon per apple, depending upon the sweetness and the tanginess of the fruit. Continue to stir, adding more water as needed and desired. Add a tablespoon or 2 of rum to the fruit – if desired - as it is cooking, allowing the alcohol to burn away.

Once the apples are cooked as desired – taste and adjust the sweetness – scrape out of the skillet into a bowl to cool at least slightly before serving over the chilled Honey Custards. Top with a very light dusting of ground cinnamon or nutmeg and a bit of whipped cream.
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Pizza Bianca with Olive Oil, Mozzarella and Garlic

FAMILY RITUAL IN WHITE

Pizza is a lot like sex. When it's good, it's really good. 

When it's bad, it's still pretty good. 

– Anonymous 

Our favorite pizzeria in Italy was about a twenty-minute drive from Ettore’s house. We would bundle the two boys into the car every Friday evening and drive the winding back roads to Arluno. During the winter months, the trip was done in the dark, pitch black dotted with freckles of yellow lights coming from a house here or there in the distance. We passed in front of the other pizzeria to get there, that pizzeria standing alone and rather forlorn right up against the edge of the road; a waiter holding aloft a huge, flat tray would dash nervously across that road, dodging cars zipping around the curve, to get to the terraced porch on the opposite side. In the summer, the days longer, the trip was made in the waning afternoon light, the boys jiggling excitedly in the back seat. Once arrived, we would be greeted by the jubilant Silvana and her soon-to-be husband, Gino and Silvana’s father, the pizzaiolo, always so warm and welcoming, as if we were their special guests.

Their menu was divided into Pizze Rosse– red pizzas, those which were spread with tomato sauce - and Pizze Bianche – white pizzas, those with no tomato sauce. I would waver between the two, juggle the pros and cons with each visit, sometimes ordering one, sometimes the other. The white pizzas were covered with an endless combination of such purely Italian ingredients from artichokes, rocket, gorgonzola or smoked scamorza to radicchio, mozzarella Bufala or speck. Or simply garlic atop an olive oil brushed dough. Focaccia, you might say. But no, white pizza.

And each week, at the end of the meal as we passed in front of the bar to pay and say goodbye, Silvana would give each of the boys a hug and pull out the huge can of Chupa Chups lollipops and let them each stick a little fist inside and pull out the flavor of their choice, which they would then suck on all the way home.

(During toad season, the little pot-holed dirt road that led to our house in the fields was covered with toads… their eyes would light up brightly in the headlights, little shiny specks in the puddles. JP would stop the car and let Clem climb out who would run behind the car and snatch at toads, trying to catch one. And he usually did. The car would bounce and bump along the path, jerking back and forth as JP tried not to crush any toads.)

You better cut the pizza in four pieces because 

I'm not hungry enough to eat six. 

– Yogi Berra 

Once a week, I make pizza for the family. I make the dough by hand sometime in the afternoon, allowing it well over the hour required for it to rise, leaving me with a light, fluffy dough. Which in turn produces a light, fluffy pizza when baked. No Kitchenaid in sight, I mix my dough ingredients by hand, I knead by hand and I roll it out by hand to create, as we enjoyed in Italy, dinner plate-sized individual pizzas.

A family ritual, we always have the same tomato sauce – mozzarella pizzas every single week; some add goat cheese, others toss on spicy chorizo and I top my own cooked pizza with chopped rocket just before digging in. Over and over again. There is something so comforting and familiar with this ritual. We come together once a week for family pizza night, put on a movie, open a bottle of wine and enjoy the evening. Not quite as rowdy or exciting as our nights out in Arluno or today when we walk over to Pizzeria Pinocchio, just a quiet family night in, a chance to chat and laugh and joke around with the boys, now tall, independent young men.

I want to share this with Susan of Wild Yeast for her weekly event Yeastspotting!

PIZZA BIANCA – White Pizza or Focaccia Pizza Dough

This makes quite a bit of dough but I love having enough to make pizza for 3 or 4 of us (depending upon how many sons dine at the house) the first night and a large focaccia the second night. 

3 Tbs (40 g) brown or white sugar
3 ½ tsp (18 g) active dry yeast
about 2 lbs (1kg) flour + more for kneading and rolling
4 ½ tsp (21 g) salt
Warm (body temperature) water - twice 1 1/3 cups (300 - 325 ml), more as needed

Place the brown sugar and the yeast in a small bowl; pour on 1 1/3 cups (300 ml) warm water. (I turn on the tap and let the water run over the back of my hand and wrist; when I can't feel it anymore, when it is just nicely skin warm, not hot, I measure into the measuring cup. Remember: if the water is too cool, the yeast won't activate, but water too hot will kill the yeast.) Let this sit for about 15 minutes until the yeast has activated, dissolved and frothy.

Measure the flour and salt into a large mixing bowl or on your work surface. When the yeast is activated, make a well in the center of the flour, pour in the yeasty water, scraping out all the yeast and sugar sticking to the sides or left in the bottom. Add about half of the second 1 1/3 cup (300 ml) warm water. With a wooden spoon or your hands, mix slowly and carefully, gradually pulling in all of the flour until it is all dampened. Add more water little by little where there are pockets of dry flour and continue stirring until all the flour is moistened.

(Remember: if your dough starts out too wet when you turn it out on your work surface to begin kneading, you can always add more flour to the dough as you knead until it is the desired texture and dampness. But if you start kneading and it is too dry, if you initially haven't blended in enough water, then it will be extremely difficult to add more! So if in doubt, make the dough wetter – adding a bit too much water - rather than leaving it too dry.)

Once the dry ingredients are dampened and the dough comes together in a scraggly ball, scrape it out onto a well-floured work surface.

Using all your force, knead the dough for 6 minutes, pushing, folding back onto itself then pushing with your knuckles, over and over again. Sprinkle flour on the work surface and even on the ball of dough whenever it feels sticks to your hands. By the end of 6 to 7 minutes, you should have a beautiful, smooth, elastic dough. Like a baby's bottom.

Pour a tablespoon or two of olive oil onto the center of an large oven tray. Turn the ball of dough around in the oil, rubbing it until the dough is well oiled all over. Place the ball in the center of the now oiled tray and cover well but loosely with plastic wrap, pulling the plastic over the edges of the tray to allow room for the dough to double in size yet still stay completely covered with plastic. Allow to rest in a dry, warm spot for at least an hour. It should double in size or more.

PIZZA BIANCA

Preheat the oven to 450°F (230°C) regular oven or 400/425°F (210°C) for convection. Prepare parchment paper-lined pizza or oven trays.

Judge quantities needed based on what you would like on top of each pizza, how much of each and how many people are joining you.

Olive oil
Fresh cloves of garlic, peeled, trimmed and very thinly sliced
Grated mozzarella
Freshly ground black pepper
Fleur de sel, if desired
Fresh rocket/arugula, if desired
Fresh ricotta, if desired

A baseball-sized round of dough will make one, thin dinner plate-sized individual pizza; use about a palmful of dough for small pizzas. Roll out each round of dough on a well-floured work surface to the desired size and thickness. Lift and move to a piece of parchment or oven paper the size of the baking tray – for large, thin pizzas, lightly roll around the rolling pin to lift and move. Press gently into shape and brush all over with olive oil. Sprinkle evenly with grated mozzarella – as much or as little as desired. Dust with freshly ground black pepper (add a light dusting of fleur de sel, if desired) and top with thin slices of garlic, as much or as little as desired (we like a lot).

Bake in the preheated oven until the dough is risen and done and the edges and bottoms are golden brown (or as desired) and the cheese is a golden brown, bubbly and gooey. 

Remove from the oven. Top with chopped fresh rocket/arugula and ricotta or anything your heart desires and eat while hot!

Pizza Bianca Night #1 - larger, thinner pizza on a dinner plate.

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Cinnamon Nut Roll Coffee Cake Redux

EVERYBODY (every Buddy) BAKES

After a harrowing kitchen experience – thrice unlucky - followed by a resounding success, I shared my Cinnamon Nut Roll Coffee Cake with the Bread Baking Babes and, as is the tradition, invited others to bake along with us and earn their Buddy Badge. Not to mention allowing others to have such a fabulous yeasted coffee cake in the kitchen. And from what I have heard, there wasn’t coffee cake in the kitchen for long! This is the kind of treat that disappears in no time at all, it is that good!

So, without further ado, here are this month’s Bread Baking Buddies and their own Cinnamon Nut Roll Coffee Cakes:

Kelly of a Messy Kitchen

Karen of Karen’s Kitchen Stories

Claartie of Claire’s Baking Journey

Carola of Sweet and That’s It

Louise Persson

Thank you all for baking this scrumptious yeast Cinnamon Nut Roll Coffee Cake with me and the Babes this month and congratulations on earning your Buddy badge!

Did you know that Life's a Feast now has a Life's a Feast Facebook Page? Join the community by simply clicking on the "Like" button... Join a group of wonderful friends to keep in touch and keep up to date.

On another note, Ilva is back from Sweden, which means that Plated Stories will soon be back to normal. In addition to the stunning images and evocative words, we will once again be adding a recipe to each and every post, each and every Monday. We continue to weave a tale around what many consider the most banal, or we weave a tale around what many do not consider at all. Dirt, Red, Thyme, Sugar… everything around us leads to the kitchen. Food as an emotional experience, a nostalgic voyage, a romantic discovery.

Do hop on over to Plated Stories and savor our latest post Flowers. You can also become part of the Plated Stories community on Facebook by simply "liking" our Plated Stories Page.

And I leave you simply with some photos of my latest stroll through my city Nantes.

 Mais oui! Voyage à Nantes leads to a very French burger!

A seafaring life in Nantes... along the Erdre River.

We do not mention this to Marty.

 Beautiful interplay between stone and flora. Just look up.

 Angels over Nantes.

 Passage Pommeraye. 

Voodoo. 

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