John Gushue . . . Dot Dot Dot

Christmas baking

One of the fundamental things about Christmas is how the house smells, and it's got to be more than just "that Christmas tree smell," to quote Greg Lake's I Believe in Father Christmas. There's mulled wine and turkey and a fireplace, but especially there's what comes out of the oven.

I'm really lucky, as my mom was a great baker (and cook) and my wife, Martha, is just as inventive.

All of the photos below are shots she took soon after some of this year's production came out.

These are called chocolate crackles, or, as I like to call them, chocolate crack. They are monstrously addictive.

If I'm not mistaken, Martha can bake a cherry cake in about six minutes. It feels that way, anyway. It's also one of her favourite gifts, so it's not uncommon to see a small stack for family and friends on the counter.

 

We have a bunch of colourful cans that sit for a little over 11 months a year on a shelf in Martha's studio; for the rest of the year, they're in the kitchen, holding the cookies as they get made.

 

These are called double chocolate wafers, and they're one of the cookies I make. Except this year; I was swamped by deadlines, so Martha was good enough to make a batch. They have melted chocolate in the dough, and they are insanely good.

Toffee pecan shortbread. Three magic words.

 

 

Planning meals

An interview with Ruth Reichl, who edited Gourmet magazine for its last decade, before its plug was pulled earlier this fall, in the Seattle Times caught my eye. Reichl has been making the rounds, promoting both a new PBS series (which is good, though I prefer its predecessor, Gourmet's Diary of a Foodie) and a new book.

Reichl made an excellent comment about why so many people are opting not to cook, but to buy so many of their meals prepared or ready to be heated:

"When people tell me they don't have time to cook, I tell them no, no, no; what you're telling me is that you don't have time to shop. If you took 30 minutes on the weekend to plan what you were going to cook all week, you could make sure you had everything on hand. If you knew what you were going to cook, you could cook dinner every night in less than 30 minutes."

My wife, who is much more clever than I am, has been pretty much doing things this way since I've known her. We plan most of our meals well in advance, although things get derailed from time or time - or, to be more charitable, just juggled. In any event, we've been able to make use of our pantry and freezer and make decent meals most nights, without breaking the bank nor spending too much time at all.