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Archive for February, 2011

I am Valentinezilla.

That’s right – the day that is supposed to be full of candy hearts and sweet cards and spending time with the one you love has turned me into an absolute nightmare.

Today, the day before Valentine’s Day, started innocently enough. I slept in late, snuggling in next to TJ and our cat, Suzie, until the idea to make crème brûlée for my V-Day blog post popped into my head.

So I hopped into the shower, got ready, and headed downtown – TJ in tow – to pick up some delightfully-coloured ramekins and a crème brûlée torch from the local kitchen store, and some eggs, blueberries and whipping cream from the Victory Meat market. Easy, right?

Not so. The torch was procured easily enough, although TJ complained bitterly about the price. A quick surveil of the store, however, revealed no ramekins. A second, more thorough search also yielded nothing. This is when I started to get cranky.

We paid for the torch, but were informed by the cashier that we’d have to buy butane from a smoke shop, as it came empty. A relatively minor wrench in my plan, but doable, I thought.

There was another home store around the corner that would surely have ramekins, so TJ and I headed further down Queen Street. After a desperate walk-around of their kitchen appliance section, and an even more frenzied dash upstairs in their furniture area, it was certain: there were no ramekins to be found.

As I’m writing this, I realize fully just how benign this situation is. Of all the problems in the world, finding half a dozen ramekins is hardly a crisis. But no, this little dilemma was cause for an utter and complete meltdown. My face started getting hot, my mind was spinning, and my lips just wouldn’t stop flapping. Arms flailing, I stampeded my way up the street to the market in search of ingredients.

Of course, they didn’t have blueberries, and the recipe I had my heart set on involved a blueberry bottom. Things really started to get ugly then. I barked at TJ to drop the basket he had grabbed on our way in, stomped out the doors, and started power-walking in the direction of home, TJ trailing after me like some kind of sad puppy. He tried so hard to calm me down, asking – begging – me to put things in perspective for once and recognize that this isn’t a big deal. But I kept ranting, cursing the city of Fredericton and its founders for failing to provide me pretty ramekins and a pint of blueberries.

“I have to make the cream, then refrigerate it for two hours,” I yelled. We were already so late in the afternoon, and that didn’t leave me enough time to take photos of the finished product before the natural light disappeared. After all, there’s no sense in making them if I can’t get a good photo for my blog, I said.

It was then that it occurred to me then that I had clearly lost track of what was important. I cook because I love to, and I share it on this blog because it makes me happy. So what if my photos are a little shaded for this one post, I thought. I’ll make this work.

My optimism didn’t last long. While I managed to find ramekins uptown, TJ had failed to locate some butane for my torch. I still needed the ingredients and it was bordering on 4 o’clock. I started to get hungry, headachey, and very, very grumpy. Everyone was annoying me – pedestrians, people in the supermarket, anything that impeded my mission.

When we got home, I quickly got to work preparing the dessert. Cooking soothes me, so I started to unwind again, and actually came around to apologizing to TJ for being such a nightmare of a girlfriend. While the cream was cooling, TJ ran out for a couple errands and I called my parents.

I was talking to my dad about my awful luck today when TJ came back home, thrusting a bouquet-shaped package in my direction. Instead of responding like a normal, decent girl, my mind automatically went to the negative, questioning why he would give me flowers while I was clearly on the phone. His face sunk. I felt like a total ass.

It was then that he dubbed me Valentinezilla. Like bridezilla, I had allowed the pressure and stress of something meant to be enjoyable to send me to the brink of insanity. I was a monster.

I wish I could say that I finally came ’round and realized how lucky I am, and how ridiculous I’d been acting, but I have to admit, I’m still pretty grumpy. While I haven’t quite yelled at  TJ since the flower incident, I did get a little testy when he accidently lit one of my crème brûlées on fire, and I did get short-tempered when supper didn’t turn out right, either.

It’s funny how the pressure of something great can completely backfire; I wanted this day before Valentine’s Day to be perfect, casual and fun for the two of us, but instead I tried so hard that I turned it into a stress-filled mess.

But I know it’s not the end of the world – that’s the thing about being with someone special. Even when you might completely screw up, they love you just the same.

Tools

six ramekins
medium saucepan
mixing bowl
whisk
wooden spoon
crème brûlée torch

Ingredients

1 pint blueberries
3 cups half-and-half
1/4 cup sugar
3 whole eggs
2 egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla
6 – 12 teaspoons white or brown sugar

Instructions

Preheat oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. Heat the half-and-half in saucepan over medium heat until it just reaches a boil. In mixing bowl, whisk sugar, whole eggs and yolks until frothy.

Slowly mix in hot half-and-half , then add the mixture to the saucepan and heat over low. Stir in vanilla. Drop blueberries into the bottoms of the ramekins. Pour cream into ramekins. Place ramekins in a large baking dish. Pour hot water into the dish until it reaches two-thirds of the way up the sides of the ramekins. Bake 35-40 minutes.

Once baked, remove ramekins from the dish and let cool for 10 – 15 minutes, then chill in refrigerator for two hours.

When ready to serve, sprinkle one to two teaspoons of brown or white sugar on top of each and apply torch flame until sugar caramelizes.

Enjoy!

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Growing up, you always think the hardest thing about love is finding the right person.

It’s practically bred into us since we were kids. No one dares tell the story of Cinderella’s happily-ever-after, because in reality the end isn’t nearly as fun as the beginning.

No one ever tells you just how hard the rest of it is. You grow up watching your parents fight from time to time, and you rarely see them kiss, but you never really consider the fact that they’re in a relationship; they’re always just your parents.

Love takes a lot of patience and adjustments – there’s no way any two people can survive together without changing some integral part of their personality. There’s no such thing as loving someone just the way they are – it’s about accepting who they are and willing to work through their shortfalls. It also takes a willingness to change.

I was a very different person when I started dating TJ seven years ago. My most noticeable and proudest adjustment has been my temper. My tendency to fly off the handle was something TJ picked up on pretty much immediately, and I’ve been working toward toning it down ever since.

We’re still working some things out, and will be for the rest of our lives. One of the biggest adjustments we’ve made recently is finding a balance between his lack of cleanliness and my obsessive-compulsive need to organize. He has a tendency to leave his socks all over our apartment, or to leave empty rolls of toilet paper on the stand without replacing it with a new one. Sometimes I get frustrated and rearrange his stuff (which he absolutely hates), or I’ll get grumpy and start nagging.

You have to make a lot of compromises, something I’ve never really had to make before meeting him. I can’t just live my life freely if I want it to involve him; every step we take needs to be calculated with each other in mind.

Sometimes I get angry with him for having to give up my neurotic need for an immaculate apartment, or for having to consider our finances as a whole before making any big decisions. And I know he gets mad when he can’t just throw his coat wherever he wants or eat barbeque chips for supper.

But no matter how loud we yell or how heavily we stomp away, we both know it’s worth it. Because I know that I’ll always be able to take my make-up off and stuff my hair in a bun at night and have him tell me I’m beautiful. Because I know that after I’ve had a hard day, I can come home and cry on the couch and not worry about him thinking less of me. Because I know that no matter how hard I fall, he’ll always be there.

Sometimes I get sad when I think of how carefree the early days were, or I get nostalgic when I see a new couple flirting together for the first time. But that stuff’s easy: anyone can put on a push-up bra and dole out sweet remarks. It takes real love to stick with someone after the mascara’s smudged off.

I waited a long time to try this recipe, mostly out of fear that I couldn’t possibly make rolls (breads tend to intimidate me). But after having a particularly nasty fight with TJ last weekend, I stormed into my kitchen, hauled out the mixing bowls and went to work. They worked out really well, and after a lot of compromise on both of our parts, so did we.

The recipe is from Canadian Living.

Tools

measuring cups
measuring spoons
medium saucepan
mixing bowls
wooden spoon
fork
wooden cutting board
two 9-inch round baking pans
cooling racks

Ingredients

2 tablespoons  sugar
1-1/4 cups milk
1/4 cup butter
1 tsp salt
1/4 cup warm water
2-1/4 teaspoon (one package) active dry yeast
1 egg
4-1/2 cups flour

Instructions

After gathering ingredients, remove one teaspoon of sugar from required amount and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, heat milk, butter, salt and remaining sugar until butter is melted. Let cool.

In large bowl, add warm water to the remaining sugar and whisk until dissolved. Sprinkle in yeast, then let stand until frothy, about 10 minutes. Whisk in milk mixture and egg.

Stir in four cups of the flour, one cup at a time, using the bread attachment on your stand mixer, or with a fork. Turn onto lightly floured cutting board and knead, adding as much of the remaining 1/2 cup flour as necessary until smooth.

Grease a large bowl with margarine or butter. Place dough inside bowl, cover with a tea towel, and let rise for 1-1/2 hours in a warm place.

After dough has rise, punch down. Turn out onto lightly floured surface and divide into 20 pieces. Shape each into a ball.

Place 2 balls in the centre of each of two greased 9-inch round metal cake pans. Surround each centre with eight balls. Cover with a tea towel and let rise in a warm place until they’ve doubled in bulk, about 1 hour. Dust with flour.

Bake at 375 degrees Fahrenheit for 25 to 30 minutes, or until rolls are golden on top. Let cool in pan on a rack for 10 minutes. Remove from pan to rack and let cool.

Enjoy!

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