by Christine | Cooking, Life
Who could resist making a cake with the name Chocolate Peanut Butter Fun Cake? Not I! It was Saturday, and I was hauling trash out of going through the magazines in my office, and I stumbled upon a Bon Apetit magazine from the 1950’s March of 2012. So I leafed through it, ripping out recipes that looked good, and I stumbled upon the aforementioned cake.
The photo in Bon Apetit that totally captivated me.
What got me, though, was the writing above the OH so yummy photo – “This vegan batter is generously versatile: The pastry chef uses it for wedding cakes and cupcakes, too. Funnily enough, its recipe is similar to one from the 1930s for something called a Depression cake.” ~ Nathanial Meads
Vegan. Cheap to make. I was SO in. Plus, chocolate. Hello! (As well, Father’s Day loomed the following day!) So I made the ridiculously easy batter with ingredients I always have on hand (all purpose flour, sugar, natural unsweetened cocoa powder, kosher salt, baking soda, vegetable oil, vanilla, chopped bittersweet chocolate) and made the cake.
Let me tell you, licking the spoon after the cake was in the oven was – well, heaven. Rich chocolate with bits of kosher salt? SWOON-worthy!
Peanut Butter Fun Cake, made by Moi from the recipe in Bon Apetit, March 2012. Okay, so the chocolate isn’t shaved…it still looks yummy, right?
The hardest bit to do was the peanut butter buttercream for the topping. It was involved (double boiler, anyone?) and used egg whites, so there went the vegan thing. But the oldest son LOVED licking the bowl clean after I frosted the cake.
My reaction to the cake? The cake itself was dense, chewy, lovely and rich with that hint of salt that made everything FANTASTIC. The icing was a bit much – rich and peanutty and overwhelming. But I was the only one who felt that way – the others were too busy scarfing it down. My oldest son has already decided I should make this cake for his every birthday. My husband said let’s not restrict it to birthdays, so my middle son pencilled in September (birthday month) and January (New Year’s) for the cake.
This is the very first time anything I’ve made has been scheduled for a remake, so far in advance. I guess they liked it!
What about you? Do you have any recipes that the family clamors for? Please share if you can! Oh, and if you want the recipe for the cake, go here to Bon Apetit. Enjoy – er –
bon apetit!
~ Until the next time, cheers! ~
~oOo~
by Christine | Life, Observations
If you want to catch up, the beginning of this adventure starts with Part One – The Train.
So, I arrived at the Santa Fe Station in San Diego, thrilled with my journey on the train. Now I had my backpack on my back, and basic directions on how to get to where I’d be meeting the hubby. Luckily it was in a restaurant in Little Italy – and there would be wine at the end of my journey.
With the help of a tourist map of the area, I figured out which way to go after leaving the station, hefted my backpack and began the walk. Up “B” St to India St, turn left, then up India until I got there. There? My destination – the Spaghetteria. (And yes -it’s as awkward to say as it looks.)
As I walked, I passed closed storefronts and open art galleries. The farther up hill I went, the busier the area got – and soon I was in the heart of Little Italy. Aging Italian men were smoking cigars and gathered together outside; little clumps of them, up and down the street. Kids dodged in and out of groups of adults.
Louche teenaged girls straggled behind their parents, giggling and talking. The scent of pizza and pasta and garlic mingled with the fragrant cigars and a surprising amount of twenty-somethings smoking cigarettes. Lots of people were out and about, and since the time was past 8:30pm, the restaurants were packed. Laughter and music and fun – the street was hopping, and I loved it.
Unfortunately I had miles, a long way – sigh…a few blocks that were all up hill to get to my destination. I walked wistfully past the Italian restaurant that The Accomplice (the Without Walls theater production that my hubby Tom Ashworth was doing through the La Jolla Playhouse) had been in, the wonderful Trattoria Fantastica (desserts to DIE for); past Filippi’s Pizza Grotto (more about Filippi’s later); across the street and up two more streets where the nightlife wasn’t anywhere near as vibrant, before I got to the Spaghetteria.
I was surprised. The restaurant was HUGE – but the street, up here, was almost empty. The restaurant, too, held maybe eight people and could easily have seated 200. Maybe 250. Whatever, I made it. Found the hubby, got a wonderful hug and kiss, then he escorted me to the bar. They had two more shows to do that night before we were free to go to dinner.
I ordered a glass of wine. Two groups came in, I sipped, they figured out the end of the puzzle, and “I fought the law and the law won” came on for the last time that night. They were done. The hubs and I hightailed it out of there (as it had a chilly atmosphere and a waitstaff that looked like they’d rather be anywhere but there) and went to Filippi’s.
Best Damn Pizza Ever.
Now, Filippi’s is not your typical restaurant. You walk in through a market – a wonderful Italian market. It’s also a bit on the old fashioned side of things, and they make no apology for it. No WiFi, no outdoor seating (which means no cigar or cigarette smoking), no TV sets. (Sounds like heaven to me!) You can’t make reservations, so you walk in and you wait. Often, the line is out the door. Luckily as we go in, we’re the second ones in line. Totally doable. (Before we’re seated, there are 30 people lined up behind us – and it’s almost 9:30pm.)
This is the first place Tom took me for dinner, back when we were first dating. His fondest memory is ordering a bottle of wine – and the waiter brought two glasses, even though I was quite obviously under age. (17 – yep!) So this was a lovely, nostalgic, romantic dinner for us.
We had pizza, a carafe of house wine, the antipasto salad (which had a marvelous, tangy-sharp cheese in it – we found out later that it was an aged provolone? Tom bought some and we’ve been enjoying it ever since), and a boatload of wonderful memories that had us laughing and talking and enjoying each other. And the pizza, let it be said, was fantastic.
Thanks to theredvelvetcouch.blogspot.com for use of the photo.
I mean, seriously. Doesn’t that look fantastic? It was the perfect meal for the end of a long, fascinating day. Tom and I finally closed the place down and headed for our home away from home for the weekend – The Boat.
Since I lost my small camera, I don’t have some photos that I wish I did. But here’s a photo of the marina at night.
The view from the boat, Shelter Island Marina.
Sleepy and happy to be together, it was great to be back at the marina. The air had that soft quality that it gets when the temperature is just right, the next day promised to be foggy, and all was well in my world.
Thanks so much for stopping by. When was the last time you went on an adventure, either by yourself or with a friend? Let’s talk!
~ Until the next time, cheers! ~
~oOo~
Demon Soul and Demon Hunt are available for the Kindle and Kobo! Have you fallen into the Caine Brothers’ world yet?
by Christine | Observations, Wine Friday
There are two full shopping days left before Father’s Day. Two days to decide what to buy that Dad in your life. What to feed him. Where to go. Oh, the pressure! But never fear, I am here to help you with your beverage choice for the Father’s Day grilling!
Not All Dads Drink Alcohol.
My much-loved Dad, Chet Cunningham, author of over 300 novels and many non-fiction titles.
Mine doesn’t. Never did. As he likes to say, he managed to live through both college and the Army (Korea), and came home without a taste for alcohol or cigarettes. He was, however, more attached to his Coca Cola than ever.
So, what to bring for the festivities to the dad that doesn’t drink? There are a wide variety of sodas out on the market that are both fun and very adult, and I’m not talking about the type you find in your typical grocery store.
You can go your normal soda (because there ARE a lot of options in a grocery store), or you can give him something a little different. For instance, have you heard of Drank? Or the Superliminal Purple Stuff Pro-Relaxation Formula? How about the iChill? These sodas are the counter to all the Red Bull and Monster energy drinks. They are non-alcoholic “relaxation” drinks.
“Funktional Beverages created Purple Stuff, packed with herbs and amino acids that supposedly calm the mind and body, and aimed it squarely at the urban 18- to 35-year-old males who once pledged their loyalty to amped-up energy drinks.” That’s a quote from an article at the Washington Post – you can see the whole article here. Okay, so – 18-35? Most dads are older…
Blenheim Ginger Ale
Not Your Momma’s Ginger Ale.
I admit, the above relaxation drinks intrigue me…but not exactly right for my dad, you know? He’s chill enough! So I’m going to go with a standard – The Blenheim Ginger Ale. Why?
It’s Nuclear!
No, really. Even a bunch of early 20’s young men had a hard time drinking this. My 19 y/o likes it in a shot glass (and he’s the only one in the family who can finish a whole bottle with dinner). As a side benefit, the ginger in the ale clears your sinuses right up.
I went to their website, and apparently they have two (or maybe three) different strengths of ginger in their ale. I can guarantee you, if you bring a six pack to the party, you’ll have people buzzing about your cleverness! (At least, my son enjoyed a certain notoriety when he brought a six pack to the party. He also came home with three bottles, lol!) Pricing: $7.00 a six pack but I’ve only found them “in person” at BevMo , and they were selling them by the bottle I think for about $1.50 (not that I’ve looked anywhere else).
Not sure if this is right for your dad? Go with the excellent standbys – Henry Weinhardt’s creamy Root Beer or Orange Soda (both favorites with my family). And those you CAN pick up at the grocery store.
Is Dad a Beer Drinker?
If your dad is a beer drinker, please keep in mind what kind of beer he prefers. If he’s a Bud Lite or Coors Lite fan, then look for a new “lite” beer that he might like and stay away from the Beers Around the World. IF, however, he prefers a Guiness, then go visit your neighborhood Costco or Cost Plus World Market and pick up a box ‘o beers from
Create your own Six Pack at Cost Plus World Market!
far-flung places. Or at World Market, you can create your own six pack – and finally put that Bud Lite up against the Coors Lite. Can you say Blind Taste Test?!!
But – Where’s the Wine???
Ah, you wine lovers! I haven’t forgotten you. I’ve got a brilliant, easy-drinking wine that’s also easy on the pocket book. I’m foregoing the typical outline that I usually do (but heck yeah I’ll be rating ’em!)
First up? My new favorite, CDR – Cotes Du Rhone AOC, a dry red wine that is a
Cotes du Rhone, NV from Costco. See the wine stain on the label? Taste-tested! Christine approved, lol!
product of France. Alcohol content, 14% by Volume – and priced at $8.95 at Costco. This is an easy-sipping wine that is rapidly becoming my new favorite go-to. The color is a deep purple-red, the fruit is lush and the finish is silky. It will go with anything you decide to grill on the BBQ this Father’s Day.
My Rating: ~ Very, Very Drinkable ~
If your dad likes white wines, well this is the perfect time of year for a Sauvignon Blanc. One of my favorites is the Kenwood Vineyards Sauvignon Blanc, with a screwtop (no cork issues!). 13.5% Alcohol by Volume. My original posting on this wine is here, if you’d like to read it. Price was $8.99 on sale at Vons.
My Rating: ~ Very, Very Drinkable ~
So There You Have It!
Options for Father’s Day, to suit almost every taste. As for my dad? He prefers a Coca Cola. He’s had to cut WAY back on his soda intake, but I think for Father’s Day he’d be allowed one…
As usual, this is just my honest opinion and depend upon my mood, the weather, and what cycle the moon is in. Your taste buds will differ.
~ Until the next time, cheers – and may your Father’s Day be filled with Love! ~
~oOo~
Demon Soul and Demon Hunt are available for the Kindle and Kobo! Have you fallen into the Caine Brothers’ world yet?
My Rating System: Undrinkable; Barely Drinkable; Drinkable; Very Drinkable; and the ever-popular “Stay Away! This is MY wine, you Slut!”
by Christine | Cooking, Life, Observations
It really does take skill to kill a perfectly grown cabbage, but I apparently have that skill down pat. But let me ease you into the horror…
Here’s a photo of my beautiful ruby cabbage, just after being picked.
The garden haul on June 8th. Ruby red cabbage, squash, potatoes, and bell peppers. Yum! (Tomatoes in the background are from the 7th of June)
It was a great day to harvest in the garden. I decided that the cabbage was looking a bit “done” with growing, so decided that Sunday was The Day. I didn’t have a clue as to what to do with it, but I didn’t want the bugs or whatnots getting to it before I could, so I decided to deal with how to fix it later.
When I picked said cabbage, I found the plant marker that came with it when we bought it, and on the back side was a delicious recipe for sweet and sour ruby red cabbage. Perfect! The Answer to my Prayer! How could I go wrong?
It’s An Art. Ruining Cabbage.
No, seriously. I can usually make anything taste good, but I’ve found you need to pretend to follow the directions. Especially in regards to proportions. (Who knew?!)
Okay, so the recipe goes like this – 1 2lb red cabbage, sliced thin (about 12 cups); 1/4 c butter; 6 Tbsp sugar; 2/3 c balsamic vinegar; salt & pepper. And proceed as you would expect.
I fell in love with the patterns inside the cabbage.
The problem? I had one cabbage. Not two pounds. Certainly not twelve cups. But I forged ahead anyway. Pan? Check. Melted butter? Check. Cabbage? Check. In it all went, along with the sugar.
Cabbage, simmering in butter and sugar.
Six tablespoons of sugar didn’t seem like a lot until I was on tablespoon four. And then suddenly, six seemed like too many. But I’d put in the requisite 1/4 cup of butter, so the six tablespoons of sugar seemed necessary. So I went ahead and did that. As well, I added the 2/3 cup of balsamic, stirred it, put it on low and covered it. Thirty minutes? Seemed like a lot of time, but okay.
By this time, the house started to smell like cabbage. With a heady balsamic scent, yes, but…unmistakably cabbage. I began to remember why I liked my cabbage in salads.
I’m not totally sure what happened after that, but I think I was on the computer. Or maybe I was reading…At any rate, the buzzer went buzz and I went to check on my masterpiece.
Um. Well…crispy. Crunchy. Kind of like molasses-covered, fried-in-butter cabbage, only not really. The juices were thick and black as tar. The cabbage was either burned, crispy, or raw. (Not sure how that happened.) I served it at the dinner table, because I wanted the boys to understand that even Mom has a bad day cooking but you should try everything once.
We tried it. I tossed it. A novelty dish that threatened the health of your teeth AND tasted of cabbage? Yeah, no.
(I will say the EPA came around that night, having got wind of something unusual on their smell-o-radar coming from my house. After insisting it wasn’t my youngest son’s room with its dirty laundry, I confessed about the cabbage. They took it away to study. Better them than me!)
Here’s the sticky mess, in all it’s glory…I snapped this photo before the EPA took it away.
Carmelized cabbage. A new taste treat? Prolly not…lol!
Eldest son spent most of Monday afternoon scrubbing the tar – I mean, the carmelized balsamic – out of the pan I cooked it in. He napped for almost two hours afterward, poor dear. And so the carmelized cabbage goes into the family notebook about bad dishes served with enthusiasm. My hubby still teases me about the Spam casserole, and that was 35 years ago!
So what disaster in the kitchen have you had recently, or has someone served you? Let’s laugh!
And just for fun, ANYONE who wants one can have an e-copy of either one of my books (or both!), Demon Soul or Demon Hunt, and my short short, Blood Dreams. Just let me know, leave me your email address, and I’ll send it to you!
~ Until the next time, cheers! ~
~oOo~
Demon Soul and Demon Hunt are available for the Kindle and Kobo! Have you fallen into the Caine Brothers’ world yet?
by Christine | Life, Observations
An Epithilium from my back yard.
I love riding trains. I can get myself just about anywhere in London or Paris on a train. I’ve even handled the trains in Rome and Antwerp and Munich.
But California trains? I was shaking in my “stylish but inexpensive boots” at the thought of it (to cop a phrase from Buffy). Ever since I moved to the Los Angeles area, I’ve been paranoid about going someplace new. I need directions. Step by step directions. A map is also good, but directions are the best. They quiet my inner fear of getting lost in the wilds of L.A.
(As I think back, I believe my fear of driving in this town was entirely wrapped up in driving the manual shift car that my husband owned. Any time I had to take that car out, I freaked. I ended up totalling that car – but that’s another blog post for another day.)
So, Trains.
Courtesy commons.wikimedia.org
I knew I was being silly about it. So when the hubs suggested I take a train down to spend the last weekend on the boat in San Diego, and then drive home with him, I took my courage in both hands and agreed. (This is all part of my decision this year to do stuff that scares me silly.)
He found the online site so I could book my ticket (we went to the station here in town and both machines were out of order). And I did. It would be a four hour, forty minute ride. Four plus hours by myself. On a train. Romantic, right?
So the great day came. I had my youngest son drive me to the train station and then wait with me until the train came, because I didn’t want to get on the wrong train. (Yeah, like that could possibly happen. There’s only one track. ONE. TRACK. Which means one train. Sheesh.)
Then it came (a bit late), and those of us who had gathered, about twenty people or so, rushed the doors all entered the cars with our carry ons and crying children and canes and bags and boxes and whatnots. Several of us beelined for the stairs, to get the best window seats. Only – no window seats available. The train was pretty full, in that there was at least one person in every two seats. So I sat next to a nice, quiet college student who was studying, stuffed my backpack beneath my legs, and set myself to enjoy the ride. And of course I took notes!
From the Notebook
My notebook of choice – a graph paper Moleskine. Love them!
3:45pm. The people on the train seem to be either students or vacationers. Mostly backpacks and flipflops. I’d kill for a tablet right now instead of my laptop, lol…laptop is heavy!
It’s very strange, seeing parts of Los Angeles that I have driven/know very well through the window of a train. As if I were in a foreign country. The last train I was on, now that I think about it, was in Disneyland and really, that doesn’t count.
Our graffiti isn’t as interesting as that in the UK. Just saying.
I hope Susie Strong is doing well. (NOTE: She’s doing great!) Which reminds me, my mammogram went fine, the people were nice, and not mad that I didn’t bring in my films from 3 years ago. Was it only 3 years? Seems like a long time. A difficult 3 years…
Does everyone on a train, when there’s a “bump” or an unusual clanking sound, think about how to survive a train crash? Or is that just me?
4:30pm Finally have a window seat. My seat mate is getting off at Union Station and
The area around Union Station. Quintessential Los Angeles, yes?
she’s already gone downstairs. 3 hours and 20 minutes to go!
Leaving Union Station – we’re going backwards! Well, damn. Now I’m on the wrong side to see the ocean. Much gnashing of teeth now. Will know better next time! I am finally starting to relax…two hours into my trip.
Seen outside the window – slag heaps, excess railroad ties, wooden & cement ties with rails, gravel heaps, ceramic pipes easily 2 ft in diameter, portapotties, traffic, road construction, boulders, cement blocks, wild daisies, homes, bushes, wires, empty parking lots newer pre-fab cookie cutter homes. Kids playing baseball – so young!
Sign at the Fullerton Station – “Preserve America – Welcome to Fullerton”. I don’t get the connection.
There’s an army infantryman on board in full gear. One woman who passed him said “I can’t say thank you enough.” I wonder, has he seen combat? (He looks very young and still light-hearted. For some reason I believe that soldiers who have seen combat have a heaviness about their souls that takes some time to offload. But I don’t know. Just a thought.) I also wonder if soldiers all just accept the public thank-yous not only for themselves, but for all the other soldiers who have gone before?
6pm – Anaheim, CA Lots of California Native Purple Trees (sorry – don’t remember their real name!) shedding their blossoms, turning neighborhoods beautiful. People are dining out, bringing groceries to their apartment, watching kids swimming. More Americana and less sandpit. Nice.
I have decided “surf liner” is a misnomer – no surf to be seen so far! Way too far inland, grr.
So much of the land looks like a giant’s tinker-toy yard, but with real electronics and electrical panels and car parts lined up. Unsettling. “Integrity Metal” scrap yard?!!
(NOTE: I had some AWESOME photos. But I haven’t seen my small Nikon since I got back from that trip, so all my awesome photos are not here. Sorry!)
6:47pm San Onofre – finally the beach. It’s beautiful. Lots of people still surfing in the
Between the red marker and the Old Pacific Highway is the railroad track. I think.
water, lots of people on the beach having a great time. I’m still on the wrong side of the train, but so it goes…a marine layer has crept in. I’m glad I packed a coat.
The longest stretch without stopping so far is from San Juan Capistrano (beautiful) to Oceanside. Almost half the train emptied at Oceanside. BTW – the train has plugs!
7:16pm Waiting for a Northbound train to pass, so we can continue on to Solana Beach. From what I can see of the beach, it’s still crowded with people. (I’m on the ocean side of things, now. Much better view!) One of the conductors just ran down the aisle and down the stairs. Not sure why.
7:30 – left Solana Beach. Darker than it would normally be. We’re just stopped now across from the Del Mar Hotel (first time I’ve seen the racetrack/fairgrounds from this side instead of the freeway side). There’s a breeze and the waves are high. Not sure what’s going on. Outside, lots of people in fancy dresses. Prom? Probably. Still a couple of surfers in the ocean, several people on the beach.
Traffic outside is building up. I can see two big police cars – wagons (?) on the road ahead. We’re still stopped. Ah…waiting for a freight train to pass us this time. Stupid one-track train system.
7:49pm – still stopped. The Del Mar Hotel parking lot looks packed. Oh…conductor came on and said “Now let me tell you what’s really going on.” ? A passenger downstairs had become belligerent and was interfering with the duties of the train crew. Apparently that’s as much a crime as interfering with an airplane crew. So they had to stop the train, call the cops, and go through standard safety procedures, which all took some time.
Not Del Mar. But it’s the beach, and I took this picture, so…lol!
At least the view is pretty. We’ve been here about 25 minutes now; I will not be pulling into the Santa Fe station at 8:05pm. It’s almost dark, no more surfers or lingerers at the beach. And, we’re moving again! 8:01pm.
Amazing. I am on the cliffs overlooking the ocean – two feet away there’s a drop-off to the sand. This view is worth the whole trip. Sigh…now the beach is hidden, and we move inland.
We have to make one more stop. Since we stopped on a single track, two other trains had to stop and wait for us. Now we’re on a siding, and waiting for them to pass. Only fair.
Inside the Santa Fe train depot in San Diego. My thanks to Yelp! and Robert H. for the photo.
8:25pm…Here! What a ride!
The Santa Fe depot is mere steps from San Diego’s Little Italy.
So that’s Part One. More details next week!
~ Until the next time, cheers! ~
~oOo~
Demon Soul and Demon Hunt are available for the Kindle and Kobo! Have you fallen into the Caine Brothers’ world yet?
