On the first day of school I noticed in Mikey’s classroom a name tag for a little boy named Harvey.  Now, Harvey isn’t exactly a popular name, but that isn’t what made me do a double take.  What gave me pause was that all through elementary school (the same one Mikey attends) I went to school with a boy named Harvey.  I knew this Harvey had to be my Harvey’s son.

Sure enough, we bumped into each other at the Halloween festival and laughed about the odds of meeting up 24 years later, in the same place where we last saw each other.  Life is funny that way.  You know what else is funny?  Bake sales.

Bake sales are the classic way in which churches and private schools raise funds, and I remember looking forward to them as a kid–the exception being the part where I stressed over what my mom would make.  The thing is, these days, people don’t bake.  Nope.  They pick up donuts, buy things from the supermarket bakery, or drop by Marie Callender’s for a pie, but they don’t bake.  For the bake sale.

I bake.  There was no way I was going to drop off something from the store.  Harvey, apparently, felt the same way.  I posted my progress on Facebook in between Oatmeal Bars.  He updated me on his brownies and oatmeal raisin cookies.  Together, our smugness stretched across town, fragrant with the scent of home baked goods.  When Harvey dropped off his four dozen brownies and oatmeal raisin cookies the next morning, it was all he could do to keep from smirking at the dozens of pink donut boxes.  Likewise, my vegan oatmeal bars (raspberry and apricot) were happily received since it meant the kids with egg and dairy allergies could actually participate in the bake sale.  When I got back to my car, I looked in the rear-view mirror to make sure my halo was still on straight.  It was.  It was shiny, too.

Later, Harvy and I discussed our superiority on Facebook.

Later still, Harvey picked up his sons at school.  He asked his oldest how the bake sale went, and what he bought.  Brownies?  Oatmeal Raisin cookies?  It would be a toss up–they were both pretty fabulous.

“I had a cake with cream inside, wrapped in metal.”

I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right.  Oh yes, he did.  Harvey’s older son bought a Ding Dong at the school bake sale.  And he loved it.  He loved it more than the Ding Dongs he has in the cupboard at home, apparently.

Even later still, Mikey climbed into my car, the sugar high making him both spastic and catatonic.  I asked Mikey how the bake sale was, and what he bought.  Raspberry Oatmeal bars?  Apricot Oatmeal bars?  It would be a toss up–they were both pretty fabulous.

“I had a white cupcake with a huge thing of frosting that went like this {pantomimes tornado} with a plastic tree on top.”

I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right.  Oh yes, he did.  My son bought a store-made cupcake at the school bake sale.  And he loved it.

Harvey and I drove our children home, our separate cars propelled quickly across town by the force of our deflating egos.

{chocolate cake, The Joy of Vegan Baking}

I tried to hide the Halloween candy from The Mister. Truly, I did. Actually, I was hiding it from The Mister’s notorious, insatiable, unrelenting sweet tooth and a certain 2.5 year old scamp with a nut allergy. I picked out a few favorites for Mikey and put it in my little salt and do-dads cabinet to the right of the stove. I was doing a fine job doling them out piece by piece in Mikey’s lunch box, until this Tuesday I opened my cabinet and found it devoid of candy. Not a Snickers in sight. Clearly, The Mister found my stash.

The apple cake I made on Monday? Gone by Tuesday night. Two boys, a husband, and roughly 86 sweet teeth champing at the bit* to eat dessert will do that to Mother Hubbard’s cupboard.

Today I made the Chocolate Cake from The Joy of Vegan Baking. We’ll see how long it lasts.

*yep, it’s champing. Geeky word trivia from your friendly neighborhood word nerd.

**I normally don’t reprint recipes from cookbooks without the express permission from the author, but since Colleen Patrick-Goudreau has this recipe available on her site, I’m going to go ahead and reprint it here.

Chocolate Cake

This chocolate cake might be the easiest cake in the world to prepare, and it’s incredibly versatile, lending itself to a layer cake, bundt cake, or cupcakes. Though this is a pretty common recipe, I want to give credit to Jennifer Raymond, for it was in her cookbook The Peaceful Palate that I first saw it.

Ingredients

* 1-1/2 cups (188 g) unbleached all-purpose flour
* 3/4 cup (150 g) granulated sugar
* 1/2 teaspoon salt
* 1 teaspoon baking soda
* 1/4 cup (30 g) unsweetened cocoa powder
* 1-1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
* 1/3 cup (80 ml) canola oil
* 1 tablespoon white distilled vinegar
* 1 cup (235 ml) cold water

Preheat the oven to 350° F (180° C or gas mark 4). Lightly oil a Bundt pan, 9-inch (23 cm) springform pan, or muffin tins.

Combine the flour, sugar, salt, baking soda, and cocoa powder in a bowl until thoroughly combined. Create a well in the center of your dry ingredients, and add the vanilla, oil, vinegar, and water. Mix until just combined. Pour into your prepared pan, and bake in the preheated oven for 30 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. If making cupcakes, check for doneness after 15 minutes.

Cool on a wire rack. To remove the cake from the pan, run a sharp knife around the inside of the pan to loosen the cake. Cool completely before frosting with Chocolate Frosting (see below) or with Buttercream Frosting (page 231). You may also dust with sifted confectioner’s sugar and top with fresh raspberries.

Yield: One 9-inch cake (23-cm) or 8 cupcakes. Double the recipe for a layer cake or a bundt cake.

Serving Suggestions and Variations: Add a teaspoon of cayenne pepper or a teaspoon of chili powder for a ‘Mexican Chocolate Cake.’

Chocolate Frosting

A chocolate lover’s dream! Though many of the commercial brands of frosting are ‘vegan,’ they’re also made with unsavory ingredients, such as partially hydrogenated oil or high-fructose corn syrup. This recipe is as easy as it is delicious.

Ingredients

* 1/2 cup (112 g) non-hydrogenated, nondairy butter, softened
* 3 cups (300 g) powdered (confectioner’s) sugar, sifted
* 1/3 (42 g) cup cocoa, sifted
* 1 teaspoon vanilla or 1/2 teaspoon peppermint extract
* 3-4 tablespoons (45 to 60) water or nondairy milk

With an electric hand mixer, cream the butter until smooth. With the mixer on low speed, add the sugar, and cream for about 2 minutes. Add the rest of the ingredients, and turn the mixer to high speed once all the ingredients are relatively well-combined. Beat on high speed until frosting is light and fluffy (about 3 minutes). Add l or 2 tablespoons more milk if it’s too dry. Cover the icing with plastic wrap to prevent drying until ready to use. Store it in a covered container in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks. Re-whip before using.

Yield: Enough for one 9-inch (23-cm) cake or 8 cupcakes

Yesterday Mikey announced he had created a recipe in his head that he would like to make for dinner and “I want you to take pictures of it and put it on your website, okay, mom?  Then I want you to tell me what the people say.”

So that’s exactly what we did.  This isn’t the first recipe Mikey’s come up with and not the first time he has expressed an interest in cooking.  Last week he developed a tomato and carrot salad that he instructed me to roast for exactly one minute.  I have to say, it tasted great! (But I did roast it for longer than one minute.)

Last night we ate pasta tossed with olive oil, sauteed mushrooms, roasted butternut squash, spinach, and carrots.  We added many seasonings and decided as a team to leave out the dried mustard and garlic chili powder.  It needed a little more flavor, so we ended up drizzling it all with balsamic vinegar.

It wasn’t until he was looking at the pictures I took (he printed one out for show and tell today) that it occurred to him you would be reviewing his work in the kitchen.  I could tell that he suddenly wasn’t so sure of his idea to share with everyone his creation.

“Are the people going to give me a grade, mama?”

“I’m sure they will just tell you that your recipe looks delicious.”

And it was.  I had the leftovers for lunch.

Last weekend I started baking again.  I made an enormous batch of whole wheat bread dough, enough for four loaves, but forgot I only have two bread pans.  Luckily, I was able to borrow two more from my neighbor.  I returned the bread pans that day with a loaf still warm from the oven.  I recommend this technique to everyone because when I gave her the bread she turned around and gave me freshly canned tuna from her son’s latest fishing trip.  If you have never tasted freshly canned tuna, oh my, try to find a way to do it soon.  It tasted nothing like chicken of the sea.  In fact, all it needed was a sprinkle of salt and freshly squeezed lime juice before I tossed it into a delicious spinach salad for lunch.

On another note, Tristan and I are counting down the days until we can launch Besotted Brand.  (Soon, we promise!)  We will have a number of lovely things, not the least of which are proper labels.  There will be very fancy ones, yes, but we will also offer what we hope you will consider the perfect baked goods label.  Look at my poor label above.  It’s from a national craft store and not a good thing, if you catch my meaning. For me, a good baked goods label should offer enough space for someone with large, loopy writing (ahem) to write something as brief as “Whole Wheat Bread.”  Not everyone writes in a microscopic print, you know.  Some of us like to live large, Palmer Method style.  And, please, how frustrated was I when the label refused to stay down?  Any baked goods label worth its salt has to accommodate the lumps and bumps of a good kitchen outcome.  Wouldn’t you agree?

God willing, we will have something respectable up and running in time for all that holiday baking!

{Magical Coconut Bars photo credit: Post Punk Kitchen}

Or as I labeled them for the school bake sale, Coconut & Dark Chocolate Gooey Bars (Vegan: no dairy, no eggs).

I thought law school was competitive, but that was before I participated my first school bake sale.

I remember as a child my mom participating in the school bake sale, and how I would watch to see how quickly her items would sell.  Entire classroom reputations hinged on having moms who could bake.  My mom could bake well enough, but a homemade chocolate cake frosted in home made dulce de leche wasn’t something that flew off the table in the late 70s.  A fact John Mendolia, a freckly-faced precursor to the ADHD pandemic, quickly pointed out.

“What’s that on your mom’s cake?  Is that caramel?  You don’t put caramel on a cake!”

“It’s not caramel.”

“It looks like caramel to me.  What is it?”

“Dulce de leche.”

“Whaaa?”

“It’s like milk, but kind of sweet, like candy.”

“MILK?!  Ewwwww!!  Hey, everyone!  Julieta’s mom puts BROWN MILK on her cake!”

{insert chorus of laughter here.}

The lesson?  Bake with an eye to your audience.  My mom would have been better off whipping up some Betty Crocker.  This lesson, mind you, is one I completely disregarded twenty nine years later on the eve of my first bake sale.

I have had Isa Chandra Moskowitz’s recipe for Magical Coconut Bars saved in my reader since Spring. Shortly there after, we discovered Nicholas is severely allergic to pine nuts, meaning the safest thing for him is to avoid all tree nuts, including items made in a facility that handles tree nuts. Bummer, because The Mister and I both love coconut anything.

Still, I really wanted to try them and figured I could make them, try a corner, and send them off to the bake sale. (And really, I don’t need a plate full of gooey bars in my house.) They were a snap to make, and The Mister about slipped into a blissful sugar coma when I gave him one bar.  I tried a bite and found them very tasty, albeit rich for someone who hasn’t had anything sweeter than a peach in 5 months.

I am happy to report that one bite was not enough for everyone at the bake sale, despite the scandalous vegan label.  When I showed up for my shift, the booth chairwoman was talking about the coconut bars and how they sold out in minutes.  (She didn’t know I made them.)  The best part is that these bars have, essentially, a quick and dirty dulce de leche inspired filling made from coconut milk.

Forgive me as I take a moment to stick my thumbs in my ears, wave the rest of my fingers in the air, and cry out to John Mendolia (where ever he may be) na-na-na-na-naaaaa-na.

Something tells me that I wouldn’t be shaped like an eggplant if I went through this much trouble to eat apples.

p.s. This was his third apple in less than an hour.  He was mad at me because I refused to give it to him another one, so he went to the bathroom, dragged out the stool, and got it himself.

Well, I’m done.  All that hand wringing and stress is over with.  In celebration, today I am light headed and have a migraine.  Oh, and I’m recuperating from Shingles, which I had the honor of contracting 2 weeks ago.  What can I say?  My driven, perfectionist personality likes to over achieve in everything.  If I’m going to stress out, by God I’ll stress out into complete immune system shut down.

And, yet, despite the migraine, dizziness, and white hot knife tickling my bra line, I feel fantastic.  I’m done!

Before I return to obsessing about my weight, I thought I might share some pictures of the shower for those who like this sort of thing. (For some reason I love looking at pictures of other people’s parties.)

First up, the invitations…

I wrote the invitation copy, in case you didn’t know I do that sort of thing.   I had absolutely nothing to do with the design.  I simply emailed my extremely talented friend, Cathe, and gave her a link to Rachel’s nursery bedding and let her do her thing.  Cathe is like me and hates to waste paper, so we made use of the blank space and created a small thank-you flat for the mom to be. The entire invitation suite (invite, registry insert, thank you card) fit on one 8.5×11 piece of paper that you could run through your home printer and cut out at your leisure.

Cathe and I have worked together on many, many projects, and if you are looking for custom invitations of any sort, I really can’t recommend Cathe and her shop, Feterie, enough.  She’s also on etsy, for those of you who, like me, love to shop indie.

Rachel loves green but is not a fan of pink.  I told her, very nicely(!), too bad.  Actually, I told her I would keep the pink to a minimum, but in looking at these pictures, I might have broken my promise. Thankfully, she loved it. {NOT my house, by the way…}

The arrangements caused a bit of a problem, but turned out okay. My original plan was a pave of roses, but the vases I purchased from IKEA had too large a mouth. They looked woefully empty even after I stuffed them with 2 dozen roses. Thank God Trader Joe’s is open past 8pm and has a flower department. That’s all I have to say about that.

Cathe also did the favor tags, which I printed out on my printer and cut to size. I used a pink wire ribbon to tie them around a simple 49¢ flower pot from IKEA that we filled with a plant whose name now escapes me but cost $1.69 for 6. I don’t think the favors cost more than $1.50 each.

The party was supposed to be outside, but when the weather report predicted a triple digit weekend, we said, Oh, Hell no. I knew it would be hot, regardless, so I weeks before the sun decided to descend upon our desert town I planned a menu around food that could sit outside and would be tasty warm, room temperature, or cold. (And also wouldn’t make people sick if it sat out in the sun.) Tarts, salad, and a fruit platter to the rescue. I should have put the strawberries where the pineapples are, but I didn’t plan out my fruit in advance. Live and learn!

My sister in law!

And, of course, the cake! Chocolate ganache, white cake, strawberry mousseline filling (fresh strawberries and a firm buttercream-like mousse). I also served lemon bars on the side since she has craved lemon her entire pregnancy and made use of the fruit left over from lunch by moving it to a smaller platter while everyone played games.

Sorry for the dark image, but you get the idea.

And that is it!  After the cake and presents, we cleaned up and I went home.  When I got home I (1) took off my shoes, (2) put my hair in a pony tail, (3) scrubbed off my makeup, (4) grabbed my glasses, and (5) read books three and four of the Sookie Stackhouse series.

The end.