Did I tell you about the 2-fold baking disaster I endured while attempting to create the Pirate's birthday cake? No? Well let me tell you about it now. I would love to know if any of you have experienced similar problems, because I am completely flummoxed by what went wrong, and I really want to try this recipe again.
The recipe was for an orange cake with white chocolate frosting. Sounds tasty, yes? I thought so too.
It was an odd recipe. There were no leaveners in the batter. Rather, the butter and suger were creamed together, then egg yolks, flour, and fresh squeezed orange juice added. The loftiness off the sponge was meant to come from the egg whites, which were beaten in to a meraingue and then folded in to the batter.
At least, that was how it was supposed to work. Here's the odd bit: I could't get the egg whites to beat stiff. I've made meraingue dozens of times before, but for some reason on this occasion I could not get those little puppies stiff. They just got all foamy, but stayed very wet and soupy. That was the strangest thing I'd ever seen... until I tried to make the frosting.
The frosting called for melting some white chocolate and folding it in to some creme fraiche. Except the chocolate wouldn't melt. I kid you not. I was using Green & Black's white chocolate, and I put it in a double-boiler so as not to over-heat it, but it wouldn't melt! It got all pasty, like mashed potatoes. I thought maybe there was some wierd additive in the chocolate, so I tried again with another brand, Nestle Milky Bar. Same result. I mean dude, WTF???
I wound up beating the creme fraiche stiff with some powdered sugar and a touch of nutmeg and just using that for the frosting. And actually, it was marvelous. So good, in fact, I'm going to do the same for my wedding cake. But I still want to know why my white chocolate wouldn't melt. Damndest this I ever saw.
Has anyone else ever had these problems? I'm baffled.
Showing posts with label birthdays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthdays. Show all posts
Friday, April 25, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Coast Guard Rescue
Shit, where do I begin???
Sorry for the loooooooong hiatus. I didn't have much time for blogging while oop north at the (future) in-laws, and then I got back and was busy and then,
well, you know how sometimes the more daunting a task is the longer you put it off, but it only gets more and more daunting? it's kind of like that. i wanted to tell you every wonderful little marvelous details of everything that happened, and I couldn't face the enormity of it, and so I wrote nothing at all. Not too clever, I know.
So here's the synopsis:
(and thanks for bugging me. knowing that people were checking in on me and wondering what the fuck was going on was the motivation i needed, so thanks very much to everyone who left me nagging comments about falling overboard!)
Had a fabulous time over Christmas with Pirate and his folks. Ate till it was impossible to distinguish me from the Great White Whale, and then washed it all down with another mince pie. And champers. Fucking 'ell, I drank more Champaigne in the week from Christmas to New Years than I have in my entire night cumulative. Actually, I think I drank more Champagne the first night we arrived than I had in my entire life cumulative, and just kept building up the record from there. There were dinner parties and toasts and more toasts and a few more toasts and a few more parties. Pirate and I got loads of engagement pressies, which was lovely. Pirate's parents bought us a bunch of really nice (400 thread count) King size bed linens! Ooh, those are going to be so nice to sleep in! There was also lots of Boggle, Scrabble, and reading taking place, as well as walks in the drippy countryside and strolling through villages. A lovely way to pass the holidays.
On the wedding front, things are finally getting hammered down. I can now confirm that we will be getting Married in Bristol at St. Mary Redcliffe Church on (probably) Sept. 5, 2008. (Warning: that link plays music.) We have the venue for the reception narrowed down to 3 possibilities, and will hopefully have a decision on that by the end of the week. The problem is that Pirate has just been sent to Germany for the week, so I'm rather left hanging at the moment.
boy, writing that it doesn't seem like much happened, but honestly, i've been up to my ass in aligators. well, back to it i suppose.
Ooh, I almost forgot to mention (but a certain commenter remembered), my birthday was this weekend. I am 29 for the first time. It was a good day. We met with the vicar and made arrangements for the wedding, so that was fun.
Sorry for the loooooooong hiatus. I didn't have much time for blogging while oop north at the (future) in-laws, and then I got back and was busy and then,
well, you know how sometimes the more daunting a task is the longer you put it off, but it only gets more and more daunting? it's kind of like that. i wanted to tell you every wonderful little marvelous details of everything that happened, and I couldn't face the enormity of it, and so I wrote nothing at all. Not too clever, I know.
So here's the synopsis:
(and thanks for bugging me. knowing that people were checking in on me and wondering what the fuck was going on was the motivation i needed, so thanks very much to everyone who left me nagging comments about falling overboard!)
Had a fabulous time over Christmas with Pirate and his folks. Ate till it was impossible to distinguish me from the Great White Whale, and then washed it all down with another mince pie. And champers. Fucking 'ell, I drank more Champaigne in the week from Christmas to New Years than I have in my entire night cumulative. Actually, I think I drank more Champagne the first night we arrived than I had in my entire life cumulative, and just kept building up the record from there. There were dinner parties and toasts and more toasts and a few more toasts and a few more parties. Pirate and I got loads of engagement pressies, which was lovely. Pirate's parents bought us a bunch of really nice (400 thread count) King size bed linens! Ooh, those are going to be so nice to sleep in! There was also lots of Boggle, Scrabble, and reading taking place, as well as walks in the drippy countryside and strolling through villages. A lovely way to pass the holidays.
On the wedding front, things are finally getting hammered down. I can now confirm that we will be getting Married in Bristol at St. Mary Redcliffe Church on (probably) Sept. 5, 2008. (Warning: that link plays music.) We have the venue for the reception narrowed down to 3 possibilities, and will hopefully have a decision on that by the end of the week. The problem is that Pirate has just been sent to Germany for the week, so I'm rather left hanging at the moment.
boy, writing that it doesn't seem like much happened, but honestly, i've been up to my ass in aligators. well, back to it i suppose.
Ooh, I almost forgot to mention (but a certain commenter remembered), my birthday was this weekend. I am 29 for the first time. It was a good day. We met with the vicar and made arrangements for the wedding, so that was fun.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Easter Departure
I'm leaving tomorrow (Wed) for up north, to the home of the Pirate's parental units, for Easter. I will be back the following Wednesday, 11 April. I may or may not be blogging during this time period, it's tard to hell.
I'm looking forward to this trip, which will include (but not be limited to) the following phenomena:
I'm looking forward to this trip, which will include (but not be limited to) the following phenomena:
- The Pirate's birthday (there will be an absolutely amazing chocolate-raspberry cake involved, but owing to my chocolate addiction and subsequent personal ban I will not be partaking of aforementioned cake. Instead, I will be partaking of the Pirate.)
- The funeral of one of Pirate's close colleages (this is obviously not going to be one of the fun bits, but it needs done)
- A big ol' Pirate family gathering, including both parents, the only brother, the paternal grand-dame, and all the aunts/uncles/cousins on the father's side. It's going to be quite an event. I hope I don't get people's names mixed up.
- Church on Easter Sunday. (I bought a ribbon to tie around my straw hat to match my dress. I feel very posh.) I'm not a church-going type these days, but I have very fond memories of Easter mass, and I just LOVE all those Alleluias!!!!!
- Hot hot Pirate whoopee
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
The Loot
This is the post where I tell you about all the neato stuff I got for my birfday. Mum and dad sent much needed $$$. Sr. Aunt PITA also sent $ and a book titled "Mysteries of the Middle Ages." (It looks interesting, but I question the scholarship and the agenda of the author. Will read with grain of salt near at hand.) The bro and sis-in-law sent me one of these:
Yay! now i can make my own smoothies and creamed soups and all kinds of yumminess. (Frozen cocktails has nothing to do with it, I swear.)
But the biggest surprises of all came from the Pirate and his parents.
(are you excited yet? I bet you're getting excited. You guys eat this shit up like a flock of seagulls on a corpse in a landfill.*)
Well! A package arrived in the mail, and it was Royal Mail not international so I knew it wasn't from my fam. I didn't recognize the handwriting, so I knew it wasn't any of the handful of friends I had scattered around the country. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. (I shit you not. My life really has become a Julie Andrews movie. {Not "Victor Victoria"}) I tore it open. It was a gigantic, gorgeous book titled, "Masterpieces of Illumination: the most significant manuscripts from 600 to 1400." Somebody knows me pretty damn well. I was really touched.
It was Friday evening, the day of my actual anniversary of entering the world (after a 17-hour labor, which I'm told was attributed to my shaving my legs and deciding what to wear**). The Man Himself came over, fairly late as he'd been training that evening for a national sports competition. He took me in his arms and said...
(are you salivating yet?)
"For your birthday present....
later this weekend...
I'm taking you over to Bath...
(and yes, he really was pausing after every clause, in a warped, Shatner-esque attempt to build suspense. It worked.)
where all the nice shops are...
to go shopping for...
(by this point I was almost hyperventilating)
a...
new...
evening gown!"
Ok, so it wasn't small, round, and shiny. But still, how fucking cool is that???? I've never gotten to pick out a proper gown before. I own 2, but one is a leftover from when I was a bridesmaid and I didn't get to select it, and the other I bought for 2 reasons and 2 reasons only: 1, it fit; and 2, it was cheap. I bought it to be disposable, and I've been wearing it for 3 years. So The Pirate is taking me out to doll me up in proper, high-class evening attire, along with all the necessary tailoring and underpinnings. Whoo-hoo!
We spent all day Sunday in Bath, but there was nothing. Only a few evening gowns left in the shops, and nothing to write home about. (Apparently it's not the season for purchasing formal evening wear.) After a disappointing afternoon in which I only managed to even try on 2 dresses, the Pirate is already hatching a plan to take me to London, where the shopping is legendary. Sa-weet. This is going to be phun with a capital "ph." I'll post pics when we find something we like. :0)
(and I can't help but wonder if the reason he wants to get me new gown is because he has some specific event in mind where I will need such an ensemble. I wouldn't say it's likely, but it's just possible. Stay tuned...)
*Note to self: insulting readership probably not best way to win friends and influence people.
**Ironic, as I've not shaved my legs since and I really don't give a toss about what I've got on.
Yay! now i can make my own smoothies and creamed soups and all kinds of yumminess. (Frozen cocktails has nothing to do with it, I swear.)But the biggest surprises of all came from the Pirate and his parents.
(are you excited yet? I bet you're getting excited. You guys eat this shit up like a flock of seagulls on a corpse in a landfill.*)
Well! A package arrived in the mail, and it was Royal Mail not international so I knew it wasn't from my fam. I didn't recognize the handwriting, so I knew it wasn't any of the handful of friends I had scattered around the country. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. (I shit you not. My life really has become a Julie Andrews movie. {Not "Victor Victoria"}) I tore it open. It was a gigantic, gorgeous book titled, "Masterpieces of Illumination: the most significant manuscripts from 600 to 1400." Somebody knows me pretty damn well. I was really touched.
It was Friday evening, the day of my actual anniversary of entering the world (after a 17-hour labor, which I'm told was attributed to my shaving my legs and deciding what to wear**). The Man Himself came over, fairly late as he'd been training that evening for a national sports competition. He took me in his arms and said...
(are you salivating yet?)
"For your birthday present....
later this weekend...
I'm taking you over to Bath...
(and yes, he really was pausing after every clause, in a warped, Shatner-esque attempt to build suspense. It worked.)
where all the nice shops are...
to go shopping for...
(by this point I was almost hyperventilating)
a...
new...
evening gown!"
Ok, so it wasn't small, round, and shiny. But still, how fucking cool is that???? I've never gotten to pick out a proper gown before. I own 2, but one is a leftover from when I was a bridesmaid and I didn't get to select it, and the other I bought for 2 reasons and 2 reasons only: 1, it fit; and 2, it was cheap. I bought it to be disposable, and I've been wearing it for 3 years. So The Pirate is taking me out to doll me up in proper, high-class evening attire, along with all the necessary tailoring and underpinnings. Whoo-hoo!
We spent all day Sunday in Bath, but there was nothing. Only a few evening gowns left in the shops, and nothing to write home about. (Apparently it's not the season for purchasing formal evening wear.) After a disappointing afternoon in which I only managed to even try on 2 dresses, the Pirate is already hatching a plan to take me to London, where the shopping is legendary. Sa-weet. This is going to be phun with a capital "ph." I'll post pics when we find something we like. :0)
(and I can't help but wonder if the reason he wants to get me new gown is because he has some specific event in mind where I will need such an ensemble. I wouldn't say it's likely, but it's just possible. Stay tuned...)
*Note to self: insulting readership probably not best way to win friends and influence people.
**Ironic, as I've not shaved my legs since and I really don't give a toss about what I've got on.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Birthday musings
It was my birthday last Friday. (hence the reason I didn't get any blogging done over the weekend. There were too many goings-on.) I am 28.
It's not that I object to being 28 per se. It's that I object to being just 2 years shy of 30. Something about that "3" just gives me the willies.
Since my b-day follows right on the heels of the new year, I spend a lot of time in January navel-gazing. New year, another year older, etc etc. This year I am astonished at how much my life has changed in such a short time. I can't help but look at where I was this time last year an be astonished at everything that's happened since then.
Last year at the New Year i didn't make any resolutions. I was depressed. I was in Bristol, in England, doing what I wanted to do, but I was profoundly lonely. I had very nice flatmates, all of whom were in relationships. I had very nice friends in my department, all of whom were in relationships. I was still recovering from the emotional trauma of being deported from England, and the worse trauma of not getting the warm reception from my friends that I desperately wanted. When I arrived in Bristol I hoped that the almost-flames I left behind in Manchester would rev up in a proper conflagration, but alas no. Nothin' doin'. I was depressed, convinced I would be alone forever, and focused on my work because I had nothing else besides my research and rowing. I hadn't been kissed or on any kind of a date in over 8 years.
It was on my birthday last year that one of my flatmates dragged me out to a club to get drunk and dance. It was on that night I met The Hot Scot, and pulled for the first time ever. THS made me realize what I'd been missing out on. It was that snog (and lord, what a snog!) that inspired me to join a dating service.
It was on that dating service that I met the Hairy Man, and I began to know was it was to be happy.
And it was the confidece I gained from my relationship with the Hairy Man that made my relationship with the Pirate possible. I am convinced that had I been at the party where the P and I met in my pre-Hairy state of depression that he never would have found me even the least bit attractive.
I am reminded in this saga of a book my mom used to read me call "The Little Bug That Went Ah-Choo!" In the book a bug sneezes and the result of that sneeze, by the last page of the story, is the most extaordinary parade the town has ever seen. In my case, it all started because I went to a club with my flatmate on my 27th birthday. On the 28th birtday I sat in my kitchen, looking across the counter at most wonderful man I've ever met (as he devoured the chicken and dumplings I fixed for dinner), and thought, I'm happy.
I hope 2007 brings you all as much joy and wonderfment as 2006 brought me. xxoo
It's not that I object to being 28 per se. It's that I object to being just 2 years shy of 30. Something about that "3" just gives me the willies.
Since my b-day follows right on the heels of the new year, I spend a lot of time in January navel-gazing. New year, another year older, etc etc. This year I am astonished at how much my life has changed in such a short time. I can't help but look at where I was this time last year an be astonished at everything that's happened since then.
Last year at the New Year i didn't make any resolutions. I was depressed. I was in Bristol, in England, doing what I wanted to do, but I was profoundly lonely. I had very nice flatmates, all of whom were in relationships. I had very nice friends in my department, all of whom were in relationships. I was still recovering from the emotional trauma of being deported from England, and the worse trauma of not getting the warm reception from my friends that I desperately wanted. When I arrived in Bristol I hoped that the almost-flames I left behind in Manchester would rev up in a proper conflagration, but alas no. Nothin' doin'. I was depressed, convinced I would be alone forever, and focused on my work because I had nothing else besides my research and rowing. I hadn't been kissed or on any kind of a date in over 8 years.
It was on my birthday last year that one of my flatmates dragged me out to a club to get drunk and dance. It was on that night I met The Hot Scot, and pulled for the first time ever. THS made me realize what I'd been missing out on. It was that snog (and lord, what a snog!) that inspired me to join a dating service.
It was on that dating service that I met the Hairy Man, and I began to know was it was to be happy.
And it was the confidece I gained from my relationship with the Hairy Man that made my relationship with the Pirate possible. I am convinced that had I been at the party where the P and I met in my pre-Hairy state of depression that he never would have found me even the least bit attractive.
I am reminded in this saga of a book my mom used to read me call "The Little Bug That Went Ah-Choo!" In the book a bug sneezes and the result of that sneeze, by the last page of the story, is the most extaordinary parade the town has ever seen. In my case, it all started because I went to a club with my flatmate on my 27th birthday. On the 28th birtday I sat in my kitchen, looking across the counter at most wonderful man I've ever met (as he devoured the chicken and dumplings I fixed for dinner), and thought, I'm happy.
I hope 2007 brings you all as much joy and wonderfment as 2006 brought me. xxoo
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