It’s possible I’ve waited too long to tell you about this. Waited is not quite the mot juste here. There isn’t a single word that comprehensively covers how I’ve been dying to tell you all about it with nary a writing opportunity available. This lemon curd got made, gifted, photographed, eaten and thoroughly appreciated, in short, everything but captured in this space here. I’ve been very remiss.
Let’s rectify that right away. Even though chances are that the Meyer Lemon obtaining avenues are closing fast, unless you’re the lucky owner of a tree or you refrigerated your last precious batch. They last in the fridge a long time, these little globs of sunshine. They brought much needed cheer to many a cold winter’s day in my last three months. It’s important that I give this fragrant citrus the some much required props in my virtual home too.
Cupcakes are endearing, cute even. One would need to have a heart of stone, nay, no heart at all, to resist their winsome twee appeal. Sure, eating them is good fun too. You have cake; you have cream, all gone in three bites or less. What’s not to like?
With the perspective that comes with distance (and maturity, one can dare to hope), I realize that I was unbelievably lucky when I was growing up. Though I spent years wishing my mum worked at something else other than focusing her laser gaze and brains on us, a happy result of that was a varied and healthy diet. She cooked from fresh ingredients and rarely fed us the same thing two times in a row. We weren’t allowed to eat leftovers until we turned ten. Picky (read:annoying as hell) though I was, I was forced to eat everything on my plate. Childish resentment aside, as an adult, I have only a sense of gratitude for mandatory exposure to every vegetable possible.
The pace of life has changed incredibly in the span of the last twenty years. What was once choice has now become necessity as both mothers and fathers everywhere need to work to provide for their families. Fewer children (I’m sure even back in India) have all day access to their mothers. Enter other agencies that step in to plug the gaps. Frozen food has become a multi-million dollar industry. Fast food is reducing life expectancy everywhere. The food provided in schools to children in order to save parents the time is not much different from fast food.
Some people argue that those (like me) who would like an embargo on the daily consumption of fast food as a full meal should take a look at the calories that they are consuming out of the home-cooked fare. Home cooked meals, they argue, aren’t much that much less in calorie content. The thing is, it is not calories that are causing problems in the growth of children everywhere. It is the preservatives, processing and quality of ingredients that goes into the fast food that is the problem. That, along with portion sizes. Heck, don’t take my word for it. I don’t even have children. But if you do and you live in the United States, you may want to take a minute to hear from a man who does have kids, has done oodles of research and knows what he’s talking about. Jamie Oliver spearheaded the change in school lunches in the UK. Now he’s hoping to do the same in this country, one with the highest obesity rates in the world.
There’s a lot to celebrate today if you are looking for that kind of thing. We sprung forward and practically everyone is cheering, especially since we’ve been greeted by a super gorgeous day. (I’m not. I mourn my lost hour of sleep but I’m odd that way.) We also celebrated Pi Day, a fact that I’m beginning to be more cognizant of in recent years than I was before. Not surprising, since it was born in San Francisco. In the light of changing seasons, I’ve been thinking about several things; from new flowers (aren’t they gorgeous?!) to bar stools (I’ve got to stop shovelling down breakfast standing at the kitchen counter). So preoccupied have I been that it almost passed me by. It would have been awful if I’d missed it. Really it would. For today, you see, is my first blogversary!
In the new movie Valentine’s Day, there is a scene toward the end between Jennifer Garner and Ashton Kutcher, who play long-time best friends in the movie. It is one to which Amey and I can relate. Being married to your best friend means there is almost nothing that you cannot discuss with your other half, whether it be the dissection of a ‘moment’ or an irrational obsession with all things marshmallow.
It’s pre-Valentine’s day and a gorgeous, sunny February day in NorCal. I should be outside, revelling in the light and soaking up the sunshine. Instead I’m sitting here, glued to my computer and feverishly tapping away on the keyboard. Why? Because the marshmallow made me do it. It was aided and abetted by the chocolate.
That is how intensely good these homemade marshmallows are. If you are a sucker for these soft white melting pillows, and I am, you will be riotously giddy about how easy this recipe is and how entertaining they are to make. I haven’t had this much serious fun cooking since I made plasticine pies when I was five. There is the same sort of creative discovery and satisfaction to be found here. An intensely childlike glee takes root in you as you watch the alpine white fluff come together around a whirring whisk, which is weaving meandering furrows through it.