Paper Bag Advent Calendar

During the Thanksgiving preparations, I had my mind on many things, most of them not food. I certainly ate.  And, ate.  And ate.  But, I found my mind combatting tensions, stresses, and other banalities.  Finally, my mind began to fixate on lunch bags. 

We had a number of lunch bags around.  At Halloween, we had thrown a crazy bash that rotten many a mouth within a ten mile radius.  In order to encourage the guests to take the sugar home and away from our own children, we had an activity where children could decorate hand lino-printed bags.  It was these leftover white bags that were singing to me.

Cooking has always been a joy for me; its inherent creativity and relationship to conviviality enrich me.  However, the food blogging scene, with its competition and cliquishness, were challenging. I always felt like I was in middle school.  But, in the midst of radio silence, I was certainly cooking.  Though rather than trying to find new combinations and frankly win adoration from unseen, unknown followers, I went back to regulars.  I just cooked for myself and my family.  And, then I also allowed my many interests to live unobserved. 

Making things, in whatever form that takes, continues to enrich me at home.  I continue to write and photograph.  But, I have been doing it for myself. And, this takes me back to the moment, where I was standing at my pantry door, as if eying a conquest.  The bags were just sitting on the shelf.  Lets face it.  They were asking for it. 

A couple hours, a few snips, and a little bondage, and voila, a paper bag Advent Calendar.  The spare appearance began a whirlwhind of further Advent making.  Felt and mason jars were harmed, to be sure.  The children can now certainly count up to 24.  If they are doing anything other than hours in a day of a portion of the month of December, it could be a problem.  But, hey, why put too much pressure on your young?

Chocolate Marmalade Mini-cupcakes

Perspective.

I have been thinking long and hard about this word. Stop a second and actually think about it. Let it roll of your tongue. Try saying it fast so that you swallow the “s.” Then say it a little slower. Roll that “r”, and then ramp up as at the “s.” Then notice that you just spent the last minute not thinking about anything but sounds. You were putting the concept of that word into practice. You just found a moment where everything was in perspective.



I can’t say it is something I myself put into practice with any particular frequency. For the majority of the last two months, I have almost lost sight of a concept so noble as perspective. Work has consumed me, eaten me from the inside, and left me wholly unsatiated. In some meager response to the pressure, I have cocooned myself in even more work hoping the mountain of papers would somehow inure and protect my soul. If only at some moment in that month, I had realized that my soul needs no more protection than perspective. That one day off, one evening away from the labors of the office, would mean nothing more than my own sanity. Or, that taking the snow day to make a small batch of cupcakes with your girls is so much more cathartic and so much more real than anything work has to offer.



But sometimes when you are standing at the edge, you can’t find your bearings. It is when you step back, way back, when you see the wide vista of possibilities ahead, that the lines of perspective become so obvious. You can see your present in your peripheral vision but in front, small but nonetheless there, your future reassuringly beacons you forward.

Chocolate Marmalade Mini-cupcakes:
adapted from a recipe from the Cookie Shop

Combine:
1/4 cup flour
3 T chestnut flour
Pinch baking soda
Pinch baking powder
salt
4 T cocoa power
¼ sugar
2 T brown sugar

Add:
4 tbsp buttermilk
1 egg
Couple drops espresso
½ tsp vanilla extract
4 T olive oil
1 T marmalade

Bake in mini-cupcake tins (buttered and floured) for about 8 minutes. Top with chocolate ganache.

Sweet Potato Whole Grain Waffles

Fake seems to have become a real fact of life these days. Think about it. No one is who they purport to be on facebook or twitter. In fact, on the internet, not being your real self can be a major selling point (ruth bourdain anyone?). And, as food goes, sure there are all the artificial flavors and colors. But, even with the new “real food” movement, think about the pictures. Many of those pictures have been styled, artificially lit, and preened to within an inch of their existence. For years, there have been accusations from psychologists that the plethora of airbrushed, surgically enhanced models in magazines and in video games would make young men unable to appreciate the normal female body. I am starting to think the power of food photography is affecting how I see regular food.




These waffles spring forth from their iron looking a little like a patio tile. Not the pretty Italian-made ones, mind you. More like the ones at the edge of the patio that have crumbled after putting up with one too many cold winters. And, if you aren’t used to whole grains, their bespeckled nature might concern you. And, then there is the sort of unfortunate orange of the dough. The marketer in me might call it terracotta. In other words, these are not the prom queen of waffles; instead, they make the wallflowers of waffles look like Miss America. And, then here is where my brain thinks societal conspiracy. I actually thought they are so ugly I wonder if they taste good. What? Why? My brain somehow placed visual data ahead of smell when it came to food. Who the heck cares what it looks like? I guess some food stylist/ lizard part of my brain. Luckily my husband, who abstains from all types of food porn on principle, is immune from such stupidity. He dug in and quickly attested to their deliciousness.

Recipe:
Whole Grain Sweet potato Waffles
In a blender combine:
250 grams cooked sweet potato
1 buttermilk
2 eggs
2 heaping T oil

Cook 100 grams bob's red mill hot cereal plus 3 T chia seeds with 1 cup almond milk. Cool and add to the wet. Mix.

In a large bowl combine:
145 g whole wheat flour
40 g chestnut flour
15 g flax seeds
10 g oat bran
60 g corn meal
1 T yeast
1 t baking soda
1 t salt
2 T brown sugar
2 T white sugar

Add the wet to the cold. Mix heartily. Let rest in covered in the refrigerator overnight. Bring to room temperature. Add 1/2-1 cup more buttermilk (or almond milk if you wish) to create a batter like consistency. Cook in a waffle iron at medium for about 5-7 minutes. These take longer to cook than other waffles we have made. Ours dings when it thinks they are done. So, we went through three of the regular cycles.

I am submitting this recipe to yeastspotting run by the lovely Wild Yeast.