Cake # 74 Rose Gateau

This blog is dedicated to another special mother, my sister. First, let me start off by saying that my sister is almost eight years older than me and therefore has always been someone that I have looked up to and admired. I can remember falling in love with Donny from New Kids on The Block because she loved them. I remember the first time I listened to Debbie Gibson, Alanis Morisette, Pink Floyd, and Fleetwood Mac was with my sister. My mother would tell me stories about how my sister would play the role of “Mommy” to my brother and me when we were babies. Taking care of our dirty diapers, helping us get dressed, and feeding us, were just some of the motherly duties my sister enjoyed doing as a kid herself, which is why it is no surprise that she is such a good mother to her own children today. 

I am surprised that my sister, the super mom, even has the energy left to call me nearly every day just to see how I am doing. Being a stay-at-home mom is a paradox as far as my sister is concerned. She is so involved in all three of her children’s lives that it is amazing that she has not found a way to duplicate herself because she is pulled in so many directions. She plays the traditional “Mom” roles too- the personal chef, the house-keeper, the nurse, the tutor, but it is her commitment to her children’s other activities that is truly special. Between soccer, basketball, ballet, and tennis, piano lessons, book club, science club, and bible school, it is amazing that she has the time to also take her kids to family outings, play board games, and make crafts with them. I can only hope that one day I can make the time to do half the things that my sister does with her kids with my own children.

Twenty- eight years later, and I am a mother of a two- year- old and soon to be a mother again, and I still look to my sister for advice, and my sister still calls me to see how I am doing, and takes care of me in her own way. For example, every summer my sister makes sure to get our two families together to a trip to the ocean where we can enjoy each other's friendship and children. During my daughter’s first year of life, my sister watched her every Friday to help ease the cost of daycare for us in our first year as parents. And now, with the birth of my second child fast approaching, my sister yet again has taken care of me by providing me with the most wonderful baby shower. She took me to my favorite Mexican place, decorated it, had the most adorable favors, and basically made sure I had the best time possible. This is why I can think of no better person to be the God-Mother of my son, Liam. 

Whenever I think of the woman that my sister has become, I think of roses. When we were growing up she sprayed so much sunflower spray that her room stunk of it long after she left it. In fact, she was so obsessed with Sunflower spray, that she even put it in her hair to lighten it – that was a smell that I associated with my sister as a young adult. As my sister got older, she became more graceful and sweet. She evolved from a youthful sunflower into a mature rose. In fact, her choice of perfumes, bath soaps, candles, and house decorations all matured into a more “mother earth” type style. I swear to this day if you walk into her bathroom, it smells of rose petals, which is why I chose the “Rose Gateau” cake to bake for my sister. Made with flour, baking powder, butter, sugar, eggs, milk, and all-natural, organic, rose water, and topped with a rose water-based icing, this cake is everything that is my sister; delicate, sweet, natural, and fragrant. In my version of the cake, the only thing not all-natural are the sugared red roses on top; the recipe called for rose petals, which though edible, are not particularly appetizing even when dusted with sugar, and therefore I incorporated instead little candied roses. This change works as I could not imagine having something on this cake that is not as sweet as she is. It would not be surprising to find a recipe like this hidden away in a 1950’s cookbook, just as it would be easy to see my sister in the style of a 1950’s mother and housewife. One look at the cake shows the beauty that is my sister.

The book's cake:

My cake:

 Rose Water:

 Gift-Wrapped:

Jessica, Thank you for showing me how to be a good mom.

Cake #73 Pear and Streusel Cake

Another cake made for another mother other than me or my mom. Well that last part isn’t completely true. Today’s cake was made in honor of Ted’s mom, who I have struggled with all of our marriage to call “Mom.” Not because I didn’t feel the connection, or the warmth, or let’s face it, the undeniable smothering type love that she gives so freely to me, but because I have never been good with the whole “share your feelings” type stuff. This is why I am completely in love with her son, even after twelve years of being together, because he is one of the few people (wait for the cliché) that I feel like I can be myself around and I do not have to explain it, or worry that he will judge me. I bring up Ted yet again in another one of these blogs because I have to admire the woman that raised him. I could give you the back story of a young mom raising two children by herself after a divorce but Ted’s mom is so much more than the challenges that she has had to face.

She is a woman whose heart is big enough for everyone in her extremely loud and incredibly close Irish family and even for a few stragglers, like me, along the way. I will not lie, when I first met her I was overwhelmed, kind of like when you go into a candy store and there is so much to look at and buy, and you just do not know where to start. It must have been somewhere between the introductions of the second cousins and the great aunts that I realized that there was something special about this woman. Even though Ted’s family is large and gets together often, they do not all naturally intermingle at these get togethers. Yet, all of the different subfamilies always seem to gather around Ted’s mom. It has been amazing to observe her over the years preserve close relationships with family members by giving them all of herself, her time, her compassion, and her advice. This is true of her friends as well. I remember the first time it really hit me that she was an amazing person. It was right after Ted’s grandmother died, and his mother’s neighbors came pouring in the house just to see if his mom was okay. I was astonished to see the genuine concern on their faces, no obligation – just love and deep respect. 

She is a woman who truly embraces the role of a grandmother. Evalyn can always count on her “Nan” to call her at least once a week to see how she is doing. In only two years of her precious little life, Evalyn already has a summer tradition with her Nan. Every summer she goes to the Zoo with Ted’s mom and takes pictures petting the billy goats. And do not even get me started on how much she spoils my daughter. Almost every single time Evie goes to her Nan’s or her Nan comes over our house she is giving some sort of present to either Evie, a new dress, or ourselves, a free night.

Like the Pear and Streusel Cake that I made for her, she is a woman who is a comfort to me. The cake I made is a cake that would go well with a soothing cup of tea, and it is made with warm, rich ingredients of dark brown sugar, butter, and hazelnuts, and light, sweet ingredients of sugar, vanilla, and pears. I see Ted’s mom as a piece of this cake, comfortable, familiar, and sweet. You see, now I know why I feel so comfortable around Ted, it is a trait that he has learned from his mother, to be compassionate to others. I think that is what makes me love her most – the fact that she has gotten me, someone who is hardly comfortable in her own skin, to relax (as much as humanly possible for me to relax) and feel at ease when I am around her, is amazing. 

The book’s cake:

My cake wrapped in box for Ted’s mom:

 

So for the month of May and Mother’s Day- this cake is for you – I love you “Mom”.

Cake #72 Pineapple Hummingbird Cake

In honor of Mother's Day for the next three weeks I am going to bake cakes and write blogs about some of the most important mothers in my life. So of course, I need to begin my first blog about my own mother.

So much of who I am, I get from mother - the bad, the good, and the amazing. The bad. Our irrational fear of doctors and teeth. Knee pain - even down to an oddly shaped birthmark on my left leg right above my knee that my grandmother, mother, and I all share. Our unwavering loyalty to our friends, even when they do not treat us with the same care and concern. Our inability to walk without tripping over something that is not even there. In fact, I believe that clumsiness gene has been passed on to my own daughter as well. Finally, we both unfortunately share the "I am an extremely sensitive person gene." Some people would call this a bad trait, but I just think it shows how much passion we put into our relationships, our work, and our lives. See, crying at a sappy television commercial is something that I have grown to respect about myself, my empathy, and I hope my mother can only see the beauty in those tears too.

The good. Putting others before herself is something my mother took very seriously when I was growing up. She always made sure that we, her children, were happy before she was. For example, when I was a child, (oh - let's face it and still to this very day) I had this idea in my head that everything in life should be fair. So when my parents took our family on a trip to Florida and my brother and my father went on a special excursion to Space Camp, my mother, on her own, figured out how to drive to Disney World and took my sister and I to Disney World so we wouldn't be left out. Now, I remember absolutely nothing about the trip, but I do remember that it was raining and my mother still wanted to please us. Her "I'm a proud momma smile." As my own daughter has gotten older and crossed some of those thresholds in her life - her first steps, her first time she went in the potty- her first bite of ice-cream, I find myself stealing the smile that I saw so often growing up from my own mother. In particular, the image of myself and my brother jumping off of the side of a pool and into her arms keeps playing through my mind. Again, I cannot recall where we were, but I remember the feeling of safety, knowing that she would always be there to catch me. I saw that same smile when I got my Master's Degree as well. The smile that not only says I am so proud of what you have become, but of what I know you will be.

The amazing. One of the things that my mother forced upon my brother and I, and that I would complain incessantly about was our three hours of mandatory work over the summers. While my brother and I were in Elementary all the way to High School my mother would make us do three things in our spare time. Read. Type. And our Talent, which for me was to write and my for my brother, his art. At the time, my brother and I could think of no worse torture. But MOM! None of my other friend's parents make them to do this! It's not fair! Were some of my favorite complaints to her. I distinctly remember my brother and I taking Mavis Beacon, our typing tutor CD, and throwing it on the ground, stepping on it, and putting lotion on it so it would not work in the computer, and we would not have to practice typing. But, Mavis Beacon was swift and always worked when it was time for us to practice. To most people this forced enlargement of our minds and our talents would not seem like an "amazing" thing that their mother bestowed upon them. I can honestly say her dedication to my betterment as a child is what made me be the person I am today. One could not imagine how much further I got in high school, college, and my career than my peers because of this work ethic that she has instilled upon me. Not only am I an avid reader, writer, and English Teacher, but I can type faster than The Flash and with my eyes close! It is not that she enhanced my abilities in these areas, it is that she made me realize what a person can do with themselves and their lives with a little hard work and practice.

Speaking of her encouraging me to write - I wrote this poem to my mother after I found out she had a brain tumor. I never shared it with her because I was embarrassed to see what she would think. But, I think now is a good time to let her read it:

Brain Tumor

How do you write a poem that says,

“I’m sorry you have a brain tumor.”

There’s no Hallmark Hook fancy enough

to fluff the brevity of those words.

But it was absurd to think that life

would always drift by without

something to make it halt, an alarming stop

"But your only 53" and mumbles of

"this can't be happening to me" . . . "to you."

Crashing images of my youth flash before my eyes

my mind attempting to compromise

with my emotions, to spit out words of comfort and devotion.

   I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for all the years of fights

the tears, "you were right" 

I'd take it all back if I could -

isn't that what is always said? But, you know I would.

I was ten and purposely then

I laid out my diary on my bed

and in big, bold letters and in red

it said, "I hate my mom."

And when I came back that night

I had lost all my fight

when I saw her calm words on my page:

"I love you for always and all days."

And what I was mad at I don't recall

but looking back now, I am remembering you in awe -

what a wonderful woman you were.

   I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for the pain you will endure

and for the fear and the bravery

as you push our worries out the door

to make us feel okay.

Most of all I'm sorry that I didn't say,

"I love you" each and every day.

So what does this mess of a blog have to do with a cake? I am not sure entirely. But I do know that it is my mother's amazing talent as a baker, specifically a cake baker that made me want to do this two year challenge of a cake a week. And that when I opened up my cake book for the first time, just flipping through the pages to see what cakes the book had to offer - the very first cake I stopped at was called the "Pineapple Hummingbird Cake." And although that was over a year and a half ago, when I stopped at that recipe I said to myself, that cake reminds me of my mom. Partially because my mom has always been in love with hummingbirds, partially because one of her favorite fruits are pineapples, and partially because the cake just looked like something my mom would make and eat while sitting out on her deck or in her backyard in Florida. This cake screams sun and summertime and light and air and all of the amazing traits that remind me of my mother. Besides flour, eggs, sugar, vanilla, and baking powder, this cake's recipe used cinnamon, sunflower oil, pecans, bananas, and pineapples, and cream cheese for the homemade icing. I guess the cake is kind of like my mother, a mixture of amazing flavors, a little nutty - but when put all together - sweet and perfect.

Happy Mother's Day Mom.

The book's cake:

My cake:

In the box and on my way to mom's!

Cake #71 Raspberry Pine Nut Bars

Total utter exhaustion, but it was all worth it. After eight months of fundraising, dealing with vendors, order favors, selling tickets, dealing with kids, etc , etc., etc. my co-sponsor and I put on an amazing prom. It was at the Baltimore Waterfront Marriott, and it was gorgeous, expensive, but gorgeous. As I am approaching my ten year reunion, (that I probably will not make due to a little bug known as Liam) I am brought back to the memories of my own high school prom. I do not remember dancing, or the food, or even really what the place looked liked, but I do remember being there with someone that made me feel giddy to hold his hand. So, as I walked through Edgewood's 2012 prom, noticing the girls and their dresses, the boys in their suits, and all of the shy grins of excitement, I was hopeful that at least some of the students had a great time with someone that made them feel as special as Ted has always made me feel. Focusing on my prom also helped me to not notice the dry-humping taking place on the dance floor. Because of the prom and a very energetic two-year-old, I have not had the opportunity to write my cake blog; even though, I did make the cake on Saturday morning before the prom.

The cake was incredibly easy to make - they are actually supposed to be bars, so I used the bar pan that Ted bought me for Christmas, which made the whole process easier because I did not have to cut the cake into any crumby bars. It is the little things that excite me. The usual staples of flour, sugar, butter, vanilla, eggs, and baking soda were combined with the help of my lovely assistant Evalyn. The cake also called for milk, raspberries, and pine nuts to be stirred in at the end. The great thing about this cake is that I found out another fruit that Evie likes, raspberries.

Here is the book's picture:

And here are my bars:

Besides good news about the cake, and the prom, I have also the privilege of typing to you from my "sweet purple" hp laptop. My first very own laptop, it takes a little to get used to, but it is so convenient to be able to lay in my bed and get on the computer than to have to walk all the way downstairs. Now I know that sounds like I am especially lazy, but you try it with swollen feet and a huge belly!

 I have no idea what next week's cake will be, but hopefully it will be as easy to make as this week's was.