The Tyson Pantry

Now that the holiday baking season is upon us, I found myself looking at our pantry yesterday in disbelief. Disbelief that I could find anything; disbelief in knowing my mother wouldn't approve of its state; disbelief that I was out of brown sugar.

I have a basket that holds all of the "little" things like food coloring, gel coloring, and sprinkles. But once I pryed this out of the pantry I stood in another state of disbelief.


I found things like Red Hots used for something that I can't possibly recall.


And candy melts in various colors and chocolate chips.


The sight of this chaos was almost too overwhelming.


There are sprinkles... loads of sprinkles. Halloween; red, white and blue; pastel and Easter sprinkles and sugar.


And what the? Football sprinkles?

Cake Pops

If there's one thing I've learned it's the advantage to making a carved / shaped cake is the scraps. Mounds of odd-shaped iced cake makes for either an interesting presentation on the dessert plate or melt-in-your-mouth cake pops.

I've been inspired by other food bloggers and their creative cake creations - whether cake balls, cake pops or whimsical cake treats. But at the end of the day, it's about the taste of the cake pop. While very creative and adorable, there are two things I'm not quite fond of about the pops I've seen. One, virtually all of the cake pop recipes I've seen involve a boxed cake mix. (Personally, I don't mind cake mixes but there's a far different flavor and texture involved when using scratch cake.) But since I used a cake mix as a portion of the cake recipe for the shaped cake, there is a boxed cake mix in the cake pops.

And two, another ingredient I don't prefer is canned frosting. I could spend days upon days citing the countless things wrong with canned frosting (unless you're my husband who believes a spoon and a can of frosting are a culinary match). There's nothing worse than canned icing.

After combining the cake scraps and some additional buttercream, I combined the two together. After rolling the cake balls and refrigerating for about 30 minutes, I melted the candy coating mixed with just a dab of shortening to lightly thin the melted coating. (After making numerous batches of cake pops, the tiny amount of shortening is a must.) Then inserted a candy stick into the cake ball to create the pop. I devised a drying mechanism using a block of styrofoam to allow the pops to dry.

I happen to love cake pops!


Can you tell?


In fact, we all love cake pops.


When it's all said and done, the opinion of my toughest critics (both Daddy and Baby) is what means the most.


Alas, a passing grade!

Fondant Covered Cake

I've never dared to make a cake in the shape of anything beyond a square or circle. Not only am I a big chicken but I just don't think I have the creative talent. I believe I often have great ideas, but translating the idea from my brain to three dimensions is a subject that could likely fill many pages. But instead of thinking I can't do it, I took a chance (a big chance!) this weekend to see if I could tackle a shaped, fondant covered cake.

Before starting the cake, I really needed some new sheet pans. Thankfully there's a restaurant supply store nearby and despite wanting to give them my credit card and act like a rich woman at Tiffany & Co., I restrained myself and left with only two of these commercial half sheet pans. I'd trade shoe shopping for shopping in a restaurant supply store anyday. (Shocking. Yes.)

So pretty!


After making the cake, stacking the layers (with an evil buttercream to fill the layers) I carved the cake into the shape of a crest. Next was an outer crumb coat.


I could have done a better job on smoothing the buttercream crumb coat.


But overnight in the fridge, working a 2-pound ball of blue fondant, rolling and rolling, smoothing and cutting with an Xacto knife later, I stepped back to see this.


I'm pretty close to 100% completely satisfied with the end result. The lines could be more smooth and certainly cleaner but it was a first-time project. And as a mother who considers herself a teacher, I have to teach satisfaction with the quality of work when you give it your all.

And I did take a final task tip from the Cake Boss. After watching the show for several months I've noticed there's one thing they always use to "finish" a fondant covered cake - steam. Since I don't have a commercial steamer or even a hand-held steamer I resorted to the only household appliance I have capabale of producing steam - our iron. And it worked!

And for those who wonder about the shape of cake, it is the logo of my company. I made the cake to commemorate the completion of our annual business plan.

A Special Gift

Yesterday while getting dressed, I turned towards our bathroom and stopped cold in my tracks. I stopped to see something I see everyday. And although I see this, I don't always look. But for some reason, today, I looked. And the looking made me longingly sad.

What I stopped to look at was a Christmas gift I received several years ago from my in laws. It was a gift, when I opened, that brought tears to my eyes and a warmth to my heart. Even my dear, late mother-in-law cried as I read the words.

This was one woman who loved her baby boy. Often I look back and realize she was a tough sell as it relates to measuring up to the woman best suited for her son.


She abundantly loved her son.


She was passionate about her convictions.


And she loved me.


It is one of the most touching and personal gifts I have ever received.


I still miss her. Terribly.

The Holy Grail

Finally. I've patiently waited for several months to have in my possession the holy grail of the cooking world. One simple little thing.

And here she is.


There's something certainly mystical and magical about this cookbook. Perhaps it's the recipes contained within the slightly aged pages. Perhaps it's the hand-written notes made by my father, with his near perfect penmanship, about cooking time, quantities and wine pairings. Like a '79 Chateau Lafite.


It seems my father found his niche in cooking from Julia's cookbook.


But perhaps the most magical element of this cookbook is this.


I'm ready to curl up on the couch and sift through the pages of this, the holy grail of cookbooks, to find some new favorites. Too bad I can't curl up with that '79 Chateau Lefite.

Darn You Gigi

I'd like to say there are only a handful of foods that inspire the vacancy of dietary responsibility. But, sadly, that would be an untruth of grand proportion. There are many foods that, just by their sheer sight or smell, cause me to abandon all respectable control (or any control for that matter). Foods like chocolate, or butter, and heavy cream, or potatoes and cheese. And then there's tender beef and succulent shrimp (bathed in butter), or bread and blue cheese. Oh, and don't forget ice cream made with real cream and toasted pecans on top. Maybe drizzled, no slathered, in homemade caramel sauce. Wait. I forgot bread pudding and it's trusty side-kick, bourbon cream sauce.

And now that I've made myself starved and hungry, I must confess a new-found weakness. But it is a weakness I pledge to abandon almost as quickly as I embraced it. At least I think so. (Especially since I indulged earlier today and can profess my strength in resistance.)

This weakness began several weeks ago at what I believed would be an innocent play date with the 18-month old son of friends. As they approached our front door, I noticed a large box carefully cradled in the hands of a dear woman, who I know under most circumstances would be carrying her son. But no. She was consumed with the cautious and tedious transport of delicacies. In her cradled arms was a box of Gigi's Cupcakes.

After carefully opening the box and viewing the 12 beautiful treats inside, then came the most difficult crossroads of my friendship with this dear woman – exactly which cupcake to consume first. There weren't words or gestures or movement. There was simply a moan of heavenly pleasure at the sinking of teeth into the fresh buttercream and dense cake. Resistance was futile and a complete waste of calories burned.

And yesterday on my way home from work, my car seemed to steer itself to Gigi's. I couldn't resist getting out of the car; there was some unidentifiable force pulling me off my bum and into Gigi's.

But today, all I can say is DARN YOU, GIGI! Darn you for being responsible for the width of my bum and thighs. Darn you for being so good. Darn you! Darn you over and over and over again. Darn you… until I see you again.

Where are the words? Where are the words to describe feelings that are scrambling around in my mind about how I'm missing my mother-in-law? How exactly do I capture the sadness of not being able to talk to her, or see her, or take a picture of her?

Only weeks have passed since Maryanne left this earth to join her Savior. But in those weeks I've been constantly reminded of the grace and peace she brought to so many people, and ultimately, came right back to her.

I had a dream earlier this week. In my dream I was sad that I couldn't see her. And then, all of a sudden, there she was; across a room and coming towards me. I was overwhelmed with happiness that I could see her. But in my dream, I couldn't talk to her. And how bizarre that in reality - especially in the finality of death - we can still talk to our loved ones, but not see them in the flesh.

I miss her humor.

I miss how she inspired me.

I miss her laughter.

I miss her cooking.

I miss her, terribly.