"Rub the Butter into the Flour"

If you have done any baking in your life, you have undoubtedly come across a recipe that instructs you to “rub the butter into the flour”.

This is a required step for the bacon-cheddar biscuits I shared with my family over my mini-Christmas vacation. My mother let out a groan when she saw me doing this and asked if she could just do this in the food processor.

Yes, of course you can.

But – why would you want to?

Of all the steps and tedious tasks required of someone who has chosen a career in pastry, this is by far my favorite.

Of all the progress that has been made with ingredients and techniques and machines, my hands can still create something better.

My own two hands.

I thought of this as I spent just over an hour last week in the restaurant, rubbing the butter into the flour mixture for all the scones to be given away at the restaurant’s New Year’s Eve dinner.

It was basic, primitive almost.

I had survived another long day at my day/desk job. At various points throughout the day, I wanted to cry or throw my hands up in the air and yell, “I quit!” This is not an uncommon occurance.

But standing here, looking at my hands dusted beautifully in flour, I was relaxed.

There isn’t a food processor in the world that can offer that same sense of comfort.

Sorry Mummy.

New Year

The ringing in of a New Year brings so much hope, promise and happiness.

I have found I am not really the type of person to make resolutions for the year ahead. Instead, I see each day as an opportunity to resolve to become a better version of myself. I would not want to wait an entire year to have to resolve to make such changes.

Instead, I see the New Year as an opportunity to appreciate how I grew in the previous year and focus my attention on the year ahead.

I continued to learn a lot about myself last year.

I learned I am not the type of person to sit idle when I am unhappy.

I learned my body can survive on not much sleep, but lots of caffeine.

I learned I am stronger and more persistent than I thought. I learned my heart and mind will move me forward when my legs quit. I learned that tears and pain are no match for the feeling of crossing the finish line.

I learned a lazy weekend morning, complete with a homemade breakfast, full pot of coffee and loved one by my side is not only rejuvenating, but also sometimes the only thing that gets me through a long week.

I learned I like me with less makeup. I learned I like me even if I am pale.

I learned that because I had finally learned to love myself, I could demand people love me for me.

And I learned I was incredibly fortunate to already be surrounded by this unconditional love.

Not bad for one year.

Looking ahead, there are some big changes on the horizon. And for the first time ever, I have absolutely no idea what the next twelve months hold for me.

I know precisely three things about the coming year:

First, in eight weeks, I will complete my pastry externship. With my degree in hand, I am hoping to be able to move full-time into the world of pastry following my externship.

A career change will bring much more satisfaction, but it will also bring terrible hours and lower pay. None of the negative aspects are unexpected, they were all considered in their own right as I made the decision to enroll in pastry school. But they still bring some worry to me as I look ahead.

Second, just a few weeks after I complete my externship, I will turn 24. I know 24 is not that old. I know I have many years, many lessons ahead of me. But I can’t help but feel a little strange about this upcoming birthday.

Why? I don’t really know. I can’t put it into words. Twenty-four sounds adult to me. It sounds like you should have your ducks-in-a-row.

Finally, I will endure four months of hard training in order to run the NYC Marathon in November.

And that’s it. I don’t know what else to expect.

Unsettling? Of course. Exciting? Most definitely.

Happy 2010.

Happy 2010

May the year ahead bring much health and happiness to you all.

Red Velvet Cupcakes

At Christmas time, it is customary to recognize the door men, elevator men and handy men of your apartment building with a nice card and extra monetary incentive to keep them doing such wonderful work throughout the year. I was introduced to this custom last year, my first winter in Manhattan.

But since money is generally tight, and especially so around the holidays, last year I decided to gift a big batch of baked goods to accompany our handwritten cards and the cheer Mike had so nicely included.

Last year, I sent down a lot of decorated sugar cookies. This Christmas, I didn’t decorate one sugar cookie.

Not one.

Right along with money, time has been a little tight as well.

So, this year, I decided on red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.


I was debating how to top the cupcakes, so I presented Mike with two designs. Hands down, he chose the red sprinkles.


They were beautiful. They did not take on that commercial-looking red-hue.

Instead the red was a deep, natural red.


I was beginning to wonder if the cupcakes had gone over well taste-wise.

But my fears were resolved as Fernando, the wonderful elevator operator who returns me to my safe haven each night, greeted me and thanked me many times over for the “red muffins”.

“I had many,” he said with a smile.

After the Snow Storm

We braved the snow storm getting to and from dinner. It was bitter cold. Our clothes were soaked.

Jackets, gloves, hats, scarves and shoes were left in the entryway to dry.

Looking at our shoes side-by-side made me smile.