I am at risk to chicken out so I'm proclaiming it here. I'm going to make croissants. In the movie "It's Complicated", Meryl Streep's character takes Steve Martin's character to her bakery shop. She offers to make him anything off the menu and he chooses a chocolate croissant. So she makes him one. Just like that. This is my inspiration.
Have I ever made croissants before? No. Do I know what it involves? No. But I just looked at a recipe and that's why I'm on the brink of clamping my hands over my mouth so no more foolishness passes these lips. So many steps. Lots of chilling, turning, rolling, rising. It will take all day. Or more. Is it going to be worth it? Langdon Hall is only an hour's drive away from Toronto. The pastry chef there makes the most delicious croissants and pain au chocolate. Crispy on the outside. Light and tender but full of substance on the inside. I ate TWO every day on my recent getaway there with the Hubby. Every morning we debated. Do we eat them first when we're hungry so we can fully savour them? Or do we eat them last and relish the anticipation? I chose to eat mine first. Just as I choose to eat vegetables last. If you wait (and this applies to a lot of things in life) fate might intervene and take away your opportunity.
I don't know when I'll get the urge to actually do it. I anticipate it will be on a cold grey winter's day. Ideally a cold grey day THIS winter. There's always the risk that I might successfully distract myself with my other recently formulated learning goals: Twitter and Pool (the kind with the balls and long stick). So if the outside patios reopen, I can beat you at pool, and still no tweet has been sent from my croissant-making kitchen, please be sure to remind me of this post!
The Adolescent and I have had a rough go of it recently. He's been asking for Cinnamon Buns but I've been resisting. They're a lot of work. They take a lot of time. And the warm fuzzies have not been felt much between us lately. But today I get the urge. It's a nasty fall day. Cold and windy and dreary out. The perfect day for baking. Comfort food. I know it's silly to think I can bake our love strong enough to withstand Adolescence. But, if anything can, it will be Cinnamon Buns .
There is mashed potato in the batter which makes these buns tender and moist. It's a baking session for the senses. First there's the irresistible smell of potatoes and butter. Then the sight of yeast foaming and bubbling and growing like some alien life form. Then there's the feeling of the sticky dough turning into smooth gorgeous substance under my kneading hands. As I'm kneading I realize that I didn't get the potatoes completely smooth and lump-free when mashing them so can feel little pea-size pieces of unmashed potato under my fingers. It's a little distracting but isn't at all apparent in the finished product.
The sound of my family salivating at the thought of what's to come and, finally, the taste of these decadent but really satisfying buns complete the experience.
The Adolescent has been doing the annoying things that adolescents do: thinking that he doesn't need me, acting like he thinks he's an adult, making his own (questionable) decisions. I know he's trying to figure out what kind of man he's going to be. I know he will eventually get to Amazing Man at his own sweet speed. But it would be a lot easier if he just realized that I KNOW HOW. All he has to do is LISTEN TO ME. But apparently that's not the way it's going to go. He has to do it for himself. Adolescents are so annoying!
But when I tell him I'm making Cinnamon Buns he THANKS ME. While the Buns are baking he HANGS AROUND ME. He eats one only five minutes out of the oven and he REMEMBERS WHAT HE APPRECIATES ABOUT ME. If only for a fleeting moment. Then he eats four more. This means that for four more fleeting moments he APPRECIATES ME. Ahhhh...!
I decide to put up with him for just one more day.
Although it's a bit of a cliche I still like taking time on Thanksgiving to particularly appreciate what I appreciate in my life. There are the enduring things like the Hubby and my children and my extended family and my friends and my hiking boots and my chef's knife. But today I'm taking time to appreciate the things that for whatever reason inspire particular thanks today.
Daughter, Paolo, Beamer, Mary, Adolescent, Me
Paolo is the son of my treasured friend Mary (see Mary Mary Quite Contrary in May). Paolo is on the cusp of becoming a professional actor. He imbues our family with creativity. When they were all young, Paolo would lead the Daughter and the Adolescent in an annual Christmas play. Two performances stand out in my memory. The first was when the Adolescent was just a toddler and Paolo and the Daughter were instructed by parents to include him in the play. They gave him the role of Light Boy. On a cue from Paolo, Light Boy would clamber up on the sofa, reach as high as his little arms could reach, and turn on the light. A few minutes later, right on cue, he would do the same thing but this time to turn the light off. And so it went. Mary and I were so proud! The second was performed the year that the Adolescent inadvertently found out from his teacher that Santa wasn't real. Paolo used this trauma as material for that year's play and "Santa is Dead" was performed to excellent reviews.
The Daughter and Paolo have difficulty with the last candle
Given the closeness of our two families it's not that surprising that Paolo and the Beamer were born on the same day ten years apart. Mary and the Adolescent also share the same birthday and many similar personality traits (give me strength!). We celebrate Paolo's 22nd birthday with a cake made from a recipe I got many years ago from Ewa. Ewa is also someone I'm thankful for. She was one of my first bosses and we worked together for many years. She was a very smart boss and I learned a lot from her. I used to listen in rapt attention to Ewa's stories about her children who were several years older than mine. A favourite topic of conversation was the adventures of their adolescence. I was enthralled. I was horrified. There was no way that MY children would ever do stuff like that! HA! And worse!!!
Ewa was, and probably still is, an excellent baker. This Sponge Cake was the one that her mother made for all family members' birthdays. It is easy to make and fresh and light and delicious.
Scarlett helping her Dad with the candles
My brother-in-law Richard's birthday is on this Thanksgiving weekend. He is a great Dad who puts ponytails and barrettes in Scarlett's hair. He is a calm steady influence on my Sister who benefits from his even keeled-ness. He has a lovely New Zealand accent that sometimes we make fun of, but only because we're envious that we don't have a lovely New Zealand accent, and he lets us. He is gentle and kind. He speaks softly and only what is necessary. He is an excellent cook and often creates dishes with an Asian influence. I've never seen him use a cookbook.
Me, Terry, and Trish
We are invited to my cousins Terry, Brian and Colin's for dinner to celebrate both Richard's birthday and Thanksgiving. The cake I make is Gingerbread Layer Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting and Candied Pistachios. It's the first time I've made this cake and it's delicious. The Guinness Extra Stout beer, the molasses, the spices of cardamom, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger both ground and fresh all combine to make a moist cake that's complex in flavour. If you like ginger and gingerbread this is a cake to try.
I'm also particularly appreciating the bons mots from my children. After I explain to him about wills and trusts, the Adolescent wonders if there exists a book called "Adults for Dummies" and that perhaps he should be reading it. Referring to her Adolescent brother, and with a deft roll of her eyes and just the right amount of superiority in her voice, the Daughter asks how I could have "birthed such an annoying person". After someone comments on his new buzz cut the Adolescent replies, almost as if by explanation, that he was getting dependent on hair product.
