On Saturday I felt amazingly good.
Back behind the stove.
Baking.
It had been MONTHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So what was wrong with me? Why did I deprive myself of something that led to bliss (yes it is indeed a gross overstatement) but that was surprisingly simple?
Because of the overwhelming presence of an unlikely couple if my life: laziness and work.
I know, I know....sounds like one of these writers whimsical minauderie, "look how smart and spiritual I am, hahaha" but this is seriously what it's all about. I have been working wayyyyyy too much since my last posting - first as an improvised waitress in a sports bar downtown (now imagine that. I am still not sure it really happened) then as a translator/fact checker/review researcher/___________ for a successful start-up company which offers daily coupons and whose name I am not allowed to use in my personal media.
Finished in the meantime my explosive nuclear translation (624 pages!!) and took on just for fun the copy editing of a dissertation.
So yeah. Work.
Hence....laziness. My cogito ergo sum? Laboro ergo non sum.
The "cuisine" was a no-woman land for months.
The thought of slaving behind the stove was more than I could fathom stomaching, and I let the deed in other hands - familiar or not.
Let's put it that way: deadly sins walk hand in hand. Laziness is best buddies with gluttony and my waist line expended a bit too much.
No, I am not running to the salad bar when I am left to my devices.
7 pounds was the price of my I-am-not-a-Superwoman-or-a-type-A-individual.
I have the deepest respect for all the people out there who just do it all: work, house chores, children - with a smile. How?!? I mean - HOW?!?!?
All I want to do when I come home is crash on the sofa, watch TV and gobble down whatever is put in front of me. My hubby did a more than decent job to sustain my wish? fantasy? of being a cast member of "Mad Men" and welcomed me more than once with a tumbler of whiskey while he was busy fixing dinner but enough is enough and all of a sudden I decided last week to take matters into my own hands.
First step of the "I-am-claiming-back-my-belonging-to-the-cooking-world": bake a pie.
Inspiration: cooking shows (remember the 'watch TV' line? I guess I still had a little housewife in me even during my toughest part of my 'rebellion').
Real life motivation: Hoosier Mama Pies. Not that I necessarily wanted to emulate them, but godammit...pies are expensive bought that way!
Idea: mango tartin Tatin.
Recipe: found on Melissa's.
End result:
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| You'll notice the artistic effort (daffodils) ruined by the home-made trivet... |
1. I used 4 mangoes instead of the three called for in the recipe, and still - it wasn't enough. You need a LOT of fruit to make a Tatin works.
2. I made the dough according to the recipe but it wasn't really to my liking. Despite the stick of butter it wasn't.....buttery enough? Yes, I'll risk it. Didn't really do it for me. I think I would prefer a puff pastry (store bought of course); don't forget to brush it with egg-wash. I did.
3. The caramel somehow didn't set....like at all. So imagine the mess when I turned my pan over on my plate.........yeah....sticky caramel is not your counter top/sink/floor best friend, believe me. Wait more than 2 minutes. Make less caramel. Use more fruit. I don't know what you are supposed to do. But this, as is, doesn't work.
Still good though but has to be eaten warm.
If you really want to be a fat cow and not the graceful doe that you are striving to be - add some home-made whipped cream (whip heavy cream in a very cold container placed for a few minutes in the freezer, it works wonders) or any type of ice-cream.
Return to the kitchen.
Stay tuned.
