Today Khristian Weeks and I went for a long walk at Lake Roland. Which was great, except it seemed that many other people had the same idea for a long walk before the rain comes tonight.
And then halfway through our walk it struck me that our bodies have become weaponized with this virus. I didn’t really want to be close to people out walking, and any time anyone sneezed it felt dangerous.
Another walker passing by commented that it sure is a shitty time to have allergies. #heard
But then there is the other side of this, the positive things that are beginning to emerge from this ongoing (and much longer than we think, IMVHO) crisis. The U.S. has figured out that yes, we can help everyone, from the poor to the elderly to the uninsured, if we put our mind (and our priorities) to it.
Maybe we are even beginning to appreciate some of the things we have taken for granted. Freedom of movement. Comfort. Toilet paper.
Calm the fuck down on that last one, people. Good lord.
Anyway.
Towards the end of our walk, I spied a little spiky plant next to the path – stinging nettle. Long reviled as an evil weed, this plant is arguably one of the most nutrient-dense plant foods available in the wild. Not only is stinging nettle delicious as food, cooked to remove the sting, but the root extract also helps to relieve allergy symptoms. There is not a ton of research on this, but some studies have been promising. Proceed with caution, as it can also, ironically, cause allergy symptoms.
So this little plant seems to sum up our current global crisis. Yes, there are barbs that must be dealt with, preferably gently and with great care, but in the end there may be innumerable benefits if we can just bring ourselves to look past the prickly outside (and since the virus itself looks spiky, this is also a skillful metaphor. I had the phrase “very skillful metaphor,” but decided it was more obvious than skillful and so eliminated the “very”).
And there we are. Today’s missive, literally from the field.
Wash your hands, don’t touch your face, and cough into your elbow. And take an allergy pill before you go for a walk.
How you know it’s serious: boxed wine stores are low at The Wine Source
It’s March 17th, St. Patrick’s Day if you care about that sort of thing. The sun is shining, mostly, and Khristian and I are practicing social distancing from everyone but each other.
I have taken the cat for a walk (which is funny), and we have gone to my house for a re-stock on books and supplies for gluten-free scones. I am about to crack a pineapple cider (Austin Eastciders) and maybe will continue to read aloud from Michael Pollan’s book A Place of My Own, dreaming of a day when Canada opens its borders back to people in the U.S. and we can start building our little shack.
It’s strange times, these, and I have to have some sort of plan for myself to keep anxiety at bay. So far I am not great at doing the right things (e.g., staying off social media and not compulsively checking the news), but I am writing this instead of doing those things. Perhaps I will do this daily, write a dispatch, so to speak, and send it into the void as everyone learns how to work at home and crowds onto the internet like the train platforms they used to stand on for their daily commute. I have a few recipes to work on from recent travels, and those will happen in the next week or so.
How will you spend this time of quietly reflected madness where we try not to peer too deeply into the darkness of what might be?
Wash your hands, don’t touch your face, and cough into your elbow.
This recipe inspired by the Great Canadian Baking Show.
I just watched The. Dumbest. Movie. about unicorns on Netflix.
Call it boredom. Call it curiosity. Call it straight-up avoidance, but I clicked “play” and watched the whole thing. There goes 90 minutes of my life I will never get back.
Part of my clicking “play” on a really stupid movie is me floundering about a little, trying to figure out whatthefuck is next. After a month off of social media and with a few important deadlines looming, deadlines that have nothing to do with mercenary writing and everything to do with my own personal creative practice, my brain and body just don’t really know which end is up. It’s like riding a horse backwards, a little. Possible, but ill-advised.
Adding to the mental fog, this week has been a wild ride in other important ways.
Started off by putting my stressed out kid on a plane to Paris for a month.
Then I picked up my dog’s ashes and pawprint, which sent me back into grief, not just for the loss of the dog but also for every bit of loss from the past decade and a half – a long series of just having something or someone I love ripped away on a regular basis. In no particular order: A baby. A houseful of belongings. A parent. A house. A school. A husband. A horse. More belongings. A dog.
It’s a lot to deal with on a random Tuesday.
So I baked some things. It doesn’t really matter why or how, but a month ago I committed to donating four dozen sweet things to a writing conference my friend organized for Baltimore City College, and the due date for those sweet things was this week.
Two of the four dozen were Fondant Fancies, fiddly little things that required several hours of baking and fussing over. In conjunction with the other two dozen sweet things (individual Chocolate Covered Cherry Cream Pies), this baking occupied enough time and mental space to get me to the end of the Tuesday of Loss Remembrance.
And then after I delivered them on Wednesday morning, I took the remaining dog for a five-mile walk. As we got back to the car, sweaty and thirsty, I felt an overwhelming sweep of gratitude, even among all of the Lost Things, that I could bake all day for a friend, and then go out on the first truly beautiful spring day and walk through the woods with my dog. It’s a privilege and a blessing that I do not take for granted.
If you are feeling the need for making something special or avoiding something or just want to distract yourself with something other than a really, really dumb movie, give these a try. I didn’t find them too technically challenging – just time and patience-intensive.
p.s. If you want the recipe for Chocolate Covered Cherry Cream Pies, comment below the recipe.
p.p.s. Oh, and hey, if you like what you read, think about subscribing to this blog. You get one email when I post – that’s it. No ads, nothing more.
Dark chocolate, chopped (optional, for decoration)
Equipment: parchment paper, 8″ square cake pan, cooling rack, rolling pin, ruler, two rimmed cookie sheets, piping bag, squeeze bottle.
Method
For the cake: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter an 8″ square cake pan and line with parchment paper, then butter the paper, too. Set aside.
Place butter and sugar in a stand mixer and cream with a paddle (this paddle is the best – not a sponsored post!) until light and fluffy. Add eggs one at a time, mixing to combine thoroughly after each egg.
Combine flour, baking powder, salt, and grated lemon rind in a bowl and mix to combine. Add to butter mixture and mix to combine, scraping down the side of the bowl. Batter will be pretty thick – this is ok.
Tip batter into prepared tin and level the surface with an offset spatula.
Bake for 30-40 minutes or until the top is light brown and springy and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Do not open the oven while it’s baking or it will sink in the middle.
Cool in the pan for ten minutes and then cool completely on a rack. You can make the buttercream while you wait.
For the buttercream: Add softened butter, powdered sugar, and vanilla extract to the clean bowl of your stand mixer. Use the whip attachment to beat until light and fluffy. You want frosting that is completely smooth and easy to spread. If it seems stiff, add some milk, just a teaspoon at a time, and whip thoroughly in between additions.
When the cake is completely cool, cut it into two horizontal layers. Spread a thin layer of raspberry jam evenly on the bottom layer, then place the top layer back.
Spread an even layer of buttercream on the top of the cake only and place in the ‘fridge.
Note: You will have leftover buttercream. Place it between graham crackers. Eat all the time.
Dust the clean counter liberally with powdered sugar and roll your marzipan paste to an 8″ square that is 1 /16″ thick (or thereabouts).
Place the marzipan on top of the buttercream and press down very lightly, then chill for another ten to 15 minutes. Have a coffee. Check your email.
Once chilled, remove the cake and, using a ruler, cut squares that are 1 1/2″ by 1 1/2″. Try to keep your cuts straight and neat, and remove any stray crumbs to keep the sides clean.
Set on a cooling rack over a rimmed cookie sheet (like a jellyroll pan). Place in ‘fridge while you prepare the candy melts.
Melt the candy melts in and coconut oil in a saucepan (or in the microwave if you have one – I do not), then transfer to a squeeze bottle with a wide opening (I cut mine wider).
Remove the cakes from the ‘fridge, and carefully coat each square with candy melt mixture. Periodically transfer the cakes to another pan and scrape the candy melt mixture that has dribbled off into the pan under the cakes and put it back in the squeeze bottle (use a funnel).
Make sure each square is fully coated.
If you’d like, allow the candy melt mixture to set (not in the ‘fridge – on the counter is fine) before melting some dark chocolate, placing it in a piping bag with a tiny opening, and drizzling all fancy-like over the squares.
Pro-tip: You can make this cake over several days, and finished squares are delicious for about a week (although the cake is not as springy).
Recipe Notes
Marzipan paste can be homemade, but I wanted to control some of the variables and so used pre-made paste. It can be found in the baking aisle. I have made my own in the past, and it’s worth the effort if the marzipan is the star.
Technically, fondant fancies use something called pâte à glacer as a coating. This is very, very similar to Wilton candy melts, and candy melts are widely available and much, much cheaper. I used vibrant green candy melts, but I also experimented with Mary Berry’s suggestion to use powdered sugar thinned with milk and tinted with food coloring. MISTAKE. Thin, too sweet, and flavorless. The coconut oil added to the candy melts makes the glaze more supple and adds a delicious flavor that complements the lemon, raspberry, and vanilla. If you want a neutral flavor (no coconut) you could use vegetable oil instead of coconut.
In which I skip out on Instagram and Facebook for the month of March but still allow myself the internet.
Utterly and inexplicably delicious.
This glorious piece of gluten-free toast slathered with molasses and margarine is just one of the beautiful parts about Catapult Coffee & Studio this morning. I find out later that the shop is opened by a Jesus-based ministry, not my favorite, but then there is this: they are living what they preach, which is good, I suppose. I try not to let that bother me – they were so gracious, the coffee was so good, and molasses on toast is probably my new go-to breakfast.
Perhaps that’s just how they lure you in.
Anyway. We loved every part of the shop. The coffee, our toasty goodness, the people, the beautiful handmade tables and other crafts on offer. WWJD? Probably stay and drink his coffee and STFU.
As we were sipping hot coffee in the lovely shop, this man walked in.
Agent de la paix.
The fact that he is a “peace officer” was even more poignant when I stupidly checked my email and saw the front-page article in The New York Times Magazine from Sunday that outlined exactly how (and why) Baltimore City is (possibly irredeemably) so violent and corrupt. Imagine if in Baltimore the police considered themselves keepers of the peace, wore the words like a badge on their chest – how would things be different?
It is a hard thing to reconcile, this magical affair I am having with Saint John and my feelings for Baltimore, the city I call home and the city that increasingly breaks my heart. It’s so easy to stay ignorant of the issues Baltimore faces – I could stay in the white L and ignore the black butterfly. So many people do, and the city makes it so easy for white folks to remain ignorant.
It’s nice to get away (and that’s what the Saint Johnners say – we are from “away”), but as always, wherever you go, there you are.
