Butterscotch Pumpkin Pie

October 30, 2013

butterscotch pumpkin pie | une gamine dans la cuisine

We're just one day shy of Hallowe'en, October's magnificent bon voyage festival! I should note that I am over summer. (It happened three weeks ago, when I bit into a warm cinnamon doughnut from the local orchard.)  If, on occasion, I lament the dwindling daylight or icy "typing" fingertips, autumn gently coaxes my gaze from sticky summer afternoons. The burnt orange sassafras outlined against an oxford blue sky, a drifting scent of smoldering leaves from the house down the road and the intoxicating aroma of spices wafting around ovens from coast to coast. Autumn surrounds me with the warmth of an earthy oversize sweater. I am utterly content with this rare mental alignment with the season.

October my darling, I saved the best for last. A month without pie would be tragic.

Pumpkin Curry Scones

October 24, 2013

Pumpkin Curry Scones | une gamine dans la cuisine

"Pivoting like old watches
on their hidden jewels,
the tall trees out the window turn toward winter."

~ Jane Hirshfield, from "Storm: Yaddo, 1989," in The October Palace

A few days ago my beloved genteel ash tree was taken down in a noisy flurry of cold metal chainsaws and frustrated shouts from men wearing hard hats and thick industrial gloves. I knew it had to be done - last May I was told the tree had succumbed to something called emerald ash borer (what a graceful name for something destructive!). Over the years I had noticed a few leafless patches in the tree's canopy but I chalked it up to the dramatic storms of late spring...apparently a lush green beetle is mightier than a handful of errant lightening strikes.

I'm fortunate enough to be surrounded by several other large trees, but without the ash softly brushing its extended branches against the neighboring oak, the yard looks like it's missing a limb. I wish I had read beneath her protective umbrella of summer leaves more often, or at least taken notice of her stoic warmth as I pulled into the driveway, instead of honing in on the opening mouth of a frigid garage. According to the rings in her trunk, which is now flush with the ground, the ash was quite ancient. When old trees are torn down I wonder if every other tree in the world can feel a quiet shift in the earth - like a single grain of sand from a castle that's suddenly pulled into the ocean...

The leaves are in their prime and even though the ash tree didn't put on the most colorful show, I do miss her, truly. Maybe the flouncy clouds of autumn and the pensive blue skies have placed me on a closer frequency with nature. Hopefully I won't tune out this time.

Homemade Oreos with White Chocolate-Coconut Cream

October 17, 2013

Homemade Oreo Cookies with White Chocolate-Coconut Cream Filling \ une gamine dans la cuisine


What, if anything, does being in one's mid-thirties actually entail? Are there rules to follow at the nexus of 25 and 45? Can I wear above-the-knee skirts & the lovingly-tattered Old Navy overalls that I've had since college? Is it okay to throw tantrums? (Hopefully, yes. I had one the other day...the background board kept falling over and smashing irreproachable homemade Oreo cookies.) Can I still giggle uncontrollably when someone burps in a quiet room (even if it's me)?

A lot of the time I feel as though I'm still 23, or 24. When I see someone who is "35"
advertising for life insurance, it's a bit of a shock to my youthful mind. Maybe it's because I don't have children, or because I always find the braying of goats to be an endless source of amusement...or because I was lucky enough to inherit my mom's ageless genes (as well as her wee 5 foot 3-inch stature). Whatever it is, even if it's simply denial, I don't think I will ever truly "feel" my proper age. Growing up I always felt older than my peers - maybe I've finally caught up, or I'm in the throws of regression...

Speaking of childhood and growing up, I was denied the sweet bliss of Oreo cookies, and Little Debbie snack cakes, and Ho Hos. My lunchtime 'desserts' came in the form of yogurt and fruit. This is my second post on homemade Oreos - I'm making up for lost time.   

Apple Pie with Caramel & Goat Cheese

October 9, 2013

apple pie with caramel + goat cheese | une gamine dans la cuisine

I love driving a stick shift, but that love is marred by a fear of hills and slopes...anything above a one degree incline. Years ago, when I went out on my fist solo drive in an old red Volvo, I hit every single red light. One of the traffic lights was located atop a steeeep hill and, lucky me, I was the first one to reach it. Staring at the light (wishing it would stay red forever) I recited what I had been taught about releasing the clutch. My palms were sweaty and I could feel everything I'd eaten that day churning around my stomach. When the light changed I cursed it, and everyone behind me for being behind me, then I went about trying to time everything perfectly. With the slow grace of a tank-size red swan, my car drifted back, rather sadly, into another car. Oh, the humanity! The other driver was pleasant enough, but humiliation took over my already threadbare confidence. To this day, for the life of me, I cannot make it up a hill in a stick shift. I have loads of other mental blocks too, but not being able to drive a stick without feeling nauseous is quite the proverbial bee in my bonnet.

Since we're in the springtime of autumn, and because the aforementioned "hill from hell" incident occurred in October, amid a "Twin Peaks" Bravo marathon, I'll always place red Volvos, Dale Cooper, high-waisted late '90s jeans, and apple pies together on the same shelf of shimmering tourmaline.

Chocolate Coconut Cream Tartlets

October 3, 2013

Chocolate Coconut Cream Tartlets | une gamine dans la cuisine


Well hello there, stranger. And a reluctant goodbye to September. Sorry for the brief absence. I have an excuse - it's going to make me appear sloth-like but that's okay (I did go on a few runs in between bouts of lethargy). Ever the late bloomer, I've recently become addicted to HBO's Boardwalk Empire. By addicted, I mean addicted. After watching two seasons (I'm halfway through the third), I'm convinced I was born in the wrong era - in a former life I must have been involved in bootlegging (moonshine?). Also, Richard Harrow is one the best television characters. Ever.

The binge-TV watching trend is new-to-me and I'm on the fence about it. For a few days I lived on coffee, soup, yoghurt, and Netflix. Getting back into the kitchen felt good. Returning to the drama of photography, however, gave me a headache - just as predicted. Which is exactly why I chose to bake something with coconut. When a photo sesh gets feisty, I like to take solace in my tasty subjects. Coconut, with its airy nonchalance, always makes me happy.
 

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