Beautiful musings of flora and fare.
I am far from being a health nut. But health is by far the most important thing, PERIOD. Last year I had surgery where the post-op recovery was excruciating. I was bed-ridden for days, helpless, depressed and in pain. All the money in the world would not have made me feel better or happier. All I wanted was my health.
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Every now and then, I whip up gnocchi with brown butter and fresh sage drizzle. Add a bit of fresh parmesan and cracked black pepper and my mouth is singing. Or I’ll roast beets and toss with some goats cheese and walnuts. Often I’ve wondered if I could translate the sage/butter/cheese/beets/walnuts into a cake and finally I did. I know what you’re thinking. Betty’s finally lost her marbles. She’s trying to make cake from a salad.
Well, I did and it was sublime. The golden colour from the beets gave the cake a beautiful soft golden hue. The taste was sweet yet subtly earthy, crunchy yet creamy. The closest thing I can compare this to is carrot cake but less sweet with loads more elegance.
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It’s hard to avoid hearing about what’s going on with our neighbours to the south. I went to my local coffee shop this morning, and almost every single person was talking about it. I was in line at the grocery store and my cashier struck up a conversation with me about it. She told me how Robert de Niro compared the situation to Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver, and how he ominously concluded with, “God help us.”
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It’s not often that I come up with my own recipe. Typically I adapt someone else’s. Why reinvent the wheel if it works, right? Wrong. Cooking/baking is truly an art. A perishable, consumable art form that has evolved so much since humans began to eat (so since forever). In every culture and society, food is one of the most tangible elements that defines us. Without the innate need to push the envelope or evolve our culinary creativity, humans wouldn’t have invented sous-vide cooking or Cronuts, (the latter, which I still haven’t tried). But enough of sliding down this sociological slope.
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The amount of chocolate, cookies and sweets we receive each Christmas is just out of this world. So much so that even I, the biggest sweet tooth just cannot handle all this saccharin. I awoke yesterday, Christmas morning with the biggest sugar hangover. I couldn’t even look at my coveted Neuhaus chocolates my mother in law Monique sent all the way from Belgium. Despite my hangover, I still craved something baked. Nothing too sweet but something slightly crumbly and moist that would go well with my strong coffee. Cinnamon streusel coffee cake is all of the above.
After preparing the batter and popping it into the oven, I took Roxie our yellow lab for a walk, made a fresh pot of coffee from beans I smuggled in from Knokke, Belgium and set the table for breakfast. Timing was perfect. The cinnamon aroma wafted throughout the house and woke the whole family up. It’s hard to ignore the smell of cinnamon. I remember a realtor once telling me to bake something with cinnamon before an open house as it’ll increase the value and sale of our home. Needless to say I baked cinnamon streusel coffee cake and staged it on a beautiful vintage cake tray. Our home sold that very same day.
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