Chocolate

Emptiness

~ Bri Sperry-Renfrew ~ 9 Comments

I ate it before breakfast – one square square, intense and dark. The cherry did tango with the chocolate. Then they disappeared from the darkened dance floor, gliding under the palatine uvula disco ball. No glimmers or sparkles or flashy flashes traced their exit. Only the crinkly, castrated foily sheath lies beside me on the sheet.

An empty brown bottle stands under the lamp on my bedside table, sentry of the solitude. In the dark that was not chocolate, it offered me hard cider from an angry orchard. Personification. Just a stupid knocked-up word, but I am filled with its pregnancy. Angry orchards and castrated sheaths, puffed up pillows and barren blankets. The fertile fog of futility fills the frigid room. Life spirals down the tubes, but only the proverbial ones.

I eat and drink alone in bed and find amusing ways to uncover this naked truth. That is all I am revealing. There is not more.

J is for: JUST The Best Recipe Ever

~ Bri Sperry-Renfrew ~ 6 Comments

JUST in case you didn’t happen to get a copy of the 1993-94 MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) recipe book with my friend, Lee’s, recipe for chocolate cake, I’m re-printing it here and including a few of my little changes.  If I could eat only one thing for the rest of my life this would be it.  FYI, I usually only use about half the frosting that the recipe makes.  I use the rest on vegetables or whatever…JUST kidding!  Maybe.  Seriously, though, the key to this recipe is not getting the frosting too thick (I usually don’t use the full pound of powdered sugar) and putting it on the cake while it’s still hot, so it sinks in and makes more of a nice glossy icing.  JOY!  JOY!  JOY!

JUST the Best Chocolate Cake Ever

(That’s what I call it; my friend is more humble than that.)

Cake:

2 sticks margarine (I always use butter instead.)

1 cup water

1/4 cup cocoa (I use dark cocoa.)

2 cups sugar

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 tsp soda

1/2 tsp salt

2 eggs, well-beaten

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/2 cup buttermilk (I usually sour 1 % milk with vinegar, but prefer buttermilk if I have it on hand.)

Frosting:

1/2 cup margarine (Again, I use butter.)

3 Tbsp cocoa (Again, dark.)

5 Tbsp milk

1 tsp vanilla

1 lb. powdered sugar

1 cup chopped nuts (optional)

Cake:  Preheat oven to 400.  In a medium saucepan over medium-high heat bring margarine, water and cocoa to a boil.  Set aside.  In mixer bowl, mix together sugar, flour, soda and salt.   Add cocoa mixture to sugar mixture.  Add beaten eggs and buttermilk mixed with vanilla.  Beat well, pausing to scrape sides and bottom of bowl.  Pour into a greased and lightly floured 9 x 13* cake pan.  Bake for 25-27 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.   Prepare frosting while cake bakes.  Frost while still warm.

Frosting:  Bring margarine, cocoa, and milk to a boil.  Add powdered sugar and vanilla and blend until smooth.  Top with nuts (if your husband and kids will let you get by with it.)

*Again, I switched things up a little.  You’re supposed to use a 9 x 14 “sheet cake” pan, but I JUST prefer a thicker cake.

(J Day: A to Z Blogging Challenge April 2012)

Day 3: CHOCOLATE…or carrots?

~ Bri Sperry-Renfrew ~ 13 Comments

“BIG C

little c

What begins with C?”

– Dr. Seuss’s ABC

In this case, Dr. Seuss and I don’t come to the same conclusion.  He was perhaps a little more creative with his camel on the ceiling, but my first thought was CHOCOLATE.  I have, however, already had my climactic moment with chocolate this week thanks to an NPR article.   It seems almost cavalier to encroach again upon its crave-worthy blessedness.   Instead I will bloviate on carrots.

Two things:  first, that well-intentioned maxim our mothers taught us about eating carrots to improve our vision has been proven false.  One has only to check out my thick glasses to confirm this fact. (I ate my carrots!  Honest!)  Secondly, if my husband and I are any example, the way you approach carrots says a lot about your relationship.  In our case, opposites most certainly attract.

In my appetizer-less, meat and potato family, savory ruled supreme.  Take for example the often mistaken-for-a-vegetable grain (and fellow C-word), corn.  Rather than canning the corn we grew, my mother cut it from the cob, stirred in half and half and butter and baked it before freezing it.  I still remember the summer she got the recipe from a fellow ranch wife.  Copacetic!

In my husband’s family, all vegetables received a healthy baptism by sugar.  We have had to compromise, which to be honest, usually means that my husband has to doctor up his own veggies.  With one recipe; however, I have succumbed.  That it includes bourbon may help its case. I think I’ll make these for Easter to go along with the chocolate bunnies.   That ought to ensure a good sugar coma.

Bourbon Carrots

3 cups water

1/2 tsp salt

2 Tbsp bourbon

1 1/2 lbs baby carrots

2 Tbsp butter

1 Tbsp granulated sugar

3 Tbsp brown sugar

Chopped parsley for garnish

Bring water to boil in a 3 quart pan.  Add carrots, granulated sugar and salt.  Return to a boil and cook 5 minutes or until carrots are tender.   In a large skillet, melt butter and brown sugar over medium-high heat.  Stir in drained carrots and cook, stirring occasionally, 2-3 minutes or until well-coated.  Add bourbon.  Cook and stir 3 more minutes.  Remove from heat and transfer to serving dish.  Garnish with parsley.