Pumpkin Pie Cupcakes and Other Things We Take for Granted

I recently had the pleasure of trying the Pumpkin Pie cupcake from Treat Cupcake Bar in Needham, Massachusetts.  It's a simple cupcake--pumpkin spice cake with cinnamon cream cheese frosting.  Perhaps it's the simplicity, perhaps it's the combination of flavors, but this is a very high quality cupcake. The pumpkin cake is really moist and has a wonderful flavor. It almost seems as if you're having a really good slice of pumpkin bread instead of indulging in a cupcake.  The cake is topped with just enough frosting; some bakeries use too much frosting which frankly can take away from the cupcake experience. Not so with Treat, it's the right amount to balance the high quality cake.  The cinnamon flavor mixes perfectly with the cream cheese frosting;  you might not automatically think about putting cinnamon with a cream cheese frosting, but it really works. The sweetness of the cinnamon breaks up the richness of the frosting quite nicely, and adds a particular emphasis of flavor. Rich but not too rich, I love this frosting, and it matched perfectly with the pumpkin cake.  

I realized today that somehow, Treat has not yet made an appearance on my blog, despite the fact that I have eaten more cupcakes than I can count from Treat.  I decided that perhaps I was taking Treat for granted; just because Treat is a given for me, doesn't mean that it shouldn't be highlighted and given its day on my blog.  

My visit to Treat got me thinking about all of the other things we take for granted.  And primarily, the people that we take for granted.  More than any other person in the world, I think it's really easy to take your mom for granted.  

Your mom is your constant.  She may not see the world the way you do, but she was there when you were just discovering what the world was.  She is there for every triumph and defeat; she imprints them on her heart and can recall each one, years after you've forgotten them all.  You can behave at your worst with your mom because, after all, she's your MOM.  She's always going to love you. She's always going to be there for you, because that's just what she does and who she is.  Whether you are at your best or your worst, she is there. Whether you are five or twenty five or fifty-five, you mom is still your mom. She knew you before anyone else did.

Yes, we have Mother's Day, where we purchase fancy cards and perhaps flowers or small gifts. We have birthdays and holidays where perhaps we celebrate Mom, and we have those moments in life where we find a reason to say thank you. But for every moment we do celebrate, there are countless other moments that go unnoticed, un-recoginzed, un-celebrated. Because being a mom, after all, is the most full-time, all-consuming job there is.

So today, I would like to thank my Mom for a few things.  It's just the tip of the iceberg.  But it's a start.

Thanks for painting flowers on my bedroom furniture. 

Thanks for typing all of my college applications.

Thanks for all the birthday cakes, the ones with the coconut that I always said I liked the best, and the other fancy ones, that took you much more time to make.  Thanks for the fancy cupcakes you always sent to school.  They truly were the best.

Thanks for telling me, freshman year in high school, that everything would turn out okay (it did).

Thanks for being interested in the classical music I was playing on the piano, even though you had never been interested in classical music before.

Thanks for all the great Christmas Eves. 

Thanks for competing on a game show with me.

Thanks for always being excited to hear every detail about your grandchildren's lives.

Thanks for nagging me to write an honors thesis in college, because even though I chose not to, I appreciate why you did it and that you cared enough to do it.

Thanks for learning to drive. 

Thanks for driving me everywhere, years later, when I was too busy to get my license.  

Thanks for making me feel better when my second grade teacher made me feel worse.

Thanks for always watching my performances. Well into my forties.  

Thanks for the pottery you made me in ceramics class while you were a teacher's aide.  I still have it all.  

Thanks for letting me be me, always.

Have a sweet week, everyone!

Pies and Pies

My son has frequently asked me why I haven't reviewed pie on my blog, since I mention pies in the blog description.  I decided he was right and I searched the internet for some good pie recommendations in the Boston area. I was happy to find Petsi Pies in Somerville.  The glowing reviews were well earned. Just walking into Petsi Pies, you know you're about to have something good; it smells like bakery heaven.  I tried the Brown Butter Pecan and the Apple Crumb pies.  What I think sets Petsi Pies apart is the pie crust.  Impossibly buttery, not too flaky and not too dense, the crust itself could serve as a dessert.  The pecan filling in the Brown Butter Pecan had an abundance of candied pecans, plus plenty of butter, sugar and what tasted like maple flavor; it was sweet and substantial, and worked really well with the buttery crust. The apple crumb was equally good, with fresh, cooked apples on the inside and a butter/sugar crumb topping that was much more delicious than the traditional apple pie crust topping.  This will not be my last visit to Petsi Pies.

A pie review gives me an opportunity to talk about my grandmother, who was an expert at making a different kind of pie.  I'm not sure if her pie recipe ever had a proper name, but we always called them, simply, "the pies."  I guess you could call them covered pizzas;  they were made of a thin crust, folded over, and filled with paired fillings such as broccoli and sausage, meat and spinach, olives and onions.  They were not calzones, but big, rectangular, "pies" which were cut into squares and served at room temperature.  My grandmother would spend the better part of an entire day making them and they were always delicious.  They did not exist anywhere else in the world except in her kitchen;  the pies were not something that you could find in any restaurant or on any menu.  I remember there was one family event where people were toasting my grandparents--it must have been a birthday or an anniversary.  My mother's cousin made a speech and mentioned how amazing my grandmother's pies were, and I remember thinking, wow, someone else outside of my immediate family loves the pies as much as I do; someone knew about them and had loved them, before I was even born.  It always seemed like they existed just for us.  I think that's the hallmark of a great recipe, that it seems like it's made just for you.

At some point in my adult life I decided that I needed to write down the recipes for the pies and preserve them.  During a weekend visit I impulsively grabbed the closest thing to paper I could find, which turned out to be the back of a greeting card, and had my grandmother recite how to make the pies. And then we made them.  This was my grandmother and I, that day:

I still have the recipe for the pies, still on that greeting card.  As it turns out, the pies are one of the very few Italian family recipes that my dairy-allergic daughter can eat, since these don't contain any dairy products.  I make them every Christmas.  My pies are not as good as my grandmother's, but every year I try a little harder to get them right. 

I lost my grandmother about four or five years after I recorded the recipe, when I was 32 years old.  I very clearly remember the day of her funeral; I remember looking around at the people that were there to pay tribute to her as I listened to the words of the service.  And I remember thinking that life, really, is all about love.  She was loved, I thought, as I sat there.  It's not about the job you had or your awards or accomplishments or your resume. It's about the love.

It kind of takes away some of the stresses of life, I think, when you focus on that.  It's the relationships that we share that end up meaning the most.  It's the love that is the legacy. 

And pies.

Thanks Grandma.  
   

Sugar Waffles and a Smile

I had the pleasure of trying a Sugar Waffle last week.  Sugar Waffles are like miniature, sweet belgian waffles.  Max Brenner's in New York City (and locations worldwide) serves them with an assortment of toppings and flavors. I had the  Banana Split Waffle,  which was a waffle topped with carmelized bananas and sugar crispies.  It was served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream topped with milk chocolate ganache, and also a small bowl of "choco-pops" which are little balls of chocolate.  I loved this dessert!  There is something quite addicting about these waffles; they are just the right thickness and texture, and have a sweetness that is more flavorful than plain sugar.   The sliced bananas were coated with a thin layer of the type of sweet coating you find on a good creme brulee. The sugar crispies added a nice crunch and the ice cream tied it all together. The choco-pops, although good on their own, didn't add that much to the dessert as the bananas, ice cream, and sweet waffles were really all that the dessert needed.  I am now a big fan of sweet waffles.

While I was in New York City I had the opportunity to walk through Washington Square Park.  There is a great vibe in Washington Square Park and the park is filled with native New Yorkers and tourists alike, musicians, speakers, artists, and more.  In the middle of it all was a homeless man seated on a bench with a cardboard sign which read, simply, "Wanted. Smiles." Breaking my longstanding rule never to make eye contact with strangers in New York City, (the origins of which I can't recall),  I smiled at the man.

He was talking to someone leaning over his bench.  It took him a few seconds to register that I was paying attention to his sign, and I could see the moment when he figured it out.  His entire face changed, he broke out a huge smile, and yelled a thank you to me.  Which was followed by a God bless you and more big smiles. Which I returned, and then continued on my way. 

Some might say that he was just looking for money. Or that his sign was a part of some kind of scam in the making.  But I think it was something else. The man who had the sign in the park is no different from anyone, really. We're all trying to be noticed in some way.  Kids want attention from their parents or teachers or coaches.  Spouses want attention from their partners. We hope to be recognized at our jobs for hard work, innovation and dedication; we look for that raise or a promotion or a positive review.  Maybe we're musicians or writers or artists and we want praise or publication for our creative works.  We run for office, we serve on committees, we join community groups and book clubs and share our ideas.  We tweet and text and we send our photos over the internet and count our "likes" and "followers" and "facebook friends." We all crave acknowledgement and reinforcement in this world, that acknowledgement which says yes, I have noticed what you're doing.  I see YOU.  

I think that's all the man wanted. 

Have a great week.  

Peanut Butter Euphoria and Parenting

I recently had the opportunity to visit Max Brenner Restaurant in New York City.  Walking into Max Brenner is like walking into a chocolate factory, complete with large vats of churning chocolate.  The dessert offerings at Max Brenner include sundaes, milkshakes, fondue, and sweet waffles, many with various forms of chocolate and some without.  I tried the Euphoria Peanut Butter Chocolate Fudge Sundae.  Deep chocolate peanut butter ice cream and dulce de leche ice cream, carmelized toffee bananas, chocolate chunks, spiced peanuts, whipped cream and hazelnut pieces, served with warm chocolate peanut butter and warm milk chocolate ganache.  It was a lovely experience! The peanut butter and chocolate sauces were served alongside the sundae in two small bowls, which I welcomed as dipping sauces instead of sundae toppings.  I very much enjoyed the toffee bananas and chocolate chunks, and although I am a huge peanut butter and chocolate fan, I found myself wishing for more of the dulce de leche ice cream, which broke up the strong chocolate flavors nicely.  I thoroughly enjoyed this dessert, as well as the presentation. Max Brenner's makes all of its desserts look like an art form; it was as enjoyable to look at as it was to eat.

I visited Max Brenner's with my husband and oldest child, who is now a freshman in college.  It was Freshman Parents Weekend, and for me, it was filled with reminiscing on what it means to be a parent and what happens along the journey.

I have a memory from a family vacation when my daughter was eight years old.  It was just after dinner and while riding the hotel elevator, I noticed that her outfit was covered in whatever she had had for dessert. Disappointed, I started lecturing her on doing a better job of keeping food off of her clothes.

There was one other person in the elevator with us, and it was a boy who was eleven or twelve years old.  He heard what I was saying and said to me, "I can never do that. Look!" And then he proudly pointed to his dessert-stained shirt. I laughed, and realized that I had just received my own lecture, from someone not much older than my daughter.

When I look back on that moment, I think of it as one of those times that I could have done a better job as a parent.  Did I really need to be worrying about perfectly clean clothes on vacation?  Probably not. 

When you look back on eighteen years of parenting, it's easy to catalogue all of those moments, and think about the things you could have done better, or differently.  I should have nagged a little less.  I should not have worried about grades so much.  I should have let some things go, like messy clothes or a messy room, or a host of other things.

There is no perfect blueprint for parenting. There are mistakes along the way, because we're all human.  We're given these tiny human beings, without a guide book;  we teach them to walk and talk and read and learn and how to live, and we try to do our best every day.  And we can drive ourselves crazy trying to figure out if we're doing it right.

In the end, what we have to hope for, is that our kids know how very much they are loved.  It's the love that will rise to the top, and remain.  

It was truly euphoric to share the Euphoria Sundae with my all grown up daughter, seeing her within her exciting new life, seeing the fruits of our journey as parent and child.  Yes, I wish I had let the messy desserts go.  And about a million other things.  But I'm ever so thankful for the joy of sharing a dessert at this time and place, for the opportunity to watch her go off into the world, and for the love, which indeed, has risen to the top.  

Have a great week!

FroYo and Feelings

It's time to talk about frozen yogurt! Some people love frozen yogurt. I am not one of those people.  In my opinion, if you're going to enjoy a dessert, you might as well get the real thing.  However, there is some really good frozen yogurt out there, and I found it at Pinkberry.

I went to the Pinkberry in Wellesley, Massachusetts, but there are stores nationwide.  My intention was to get some frozen yogurt for one of my kids, but while there, I decided to try a sample of the Salted Caramel.  "Why is this so good?" I exclaimed to the counter salesperson.  I did not expect it to be so good.  So of course, I had to order some, and I topped it with dark chocolate shavings and strawberries.  It was very cold, very creamy, and very caramel, with just a hint of saltiness.  The dark chocolate was a perfect match for the caramel flavor, and the strawberries were a nice juicy addition.  Pinkberry is great because they have a variety of fresh toppings which are served by the sales clerks behind the counter.  Unlike most frozen yogurt places, where you get your yogurt out of a dispenser on the wall, and then move on to a mess of toppings that everyone else is digging into, the process at Pinkberry is very civilized and very streamlined.  The sales clerks get the yogurt for you and add all of the toppings, which are very neatly laid out behind the counter. Everything looks very fresh and tastes very fresh. I also tried Pinkberry's Hot Chocolate flavor, which actually did taste like a very cold and creamy version of hot chocolate. I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed my frozen yogurt experience.

I have a story to tell, and the person who originally shared it with me is a huge fan of frozen yogurt.  I share it today in honor of this person, and in honor of those who have the courage to stand up for others.

A new girl in school decided to draw a picture for a classmate in her fifth grade class.  She brought it to school and presented it to her classmate, who looked at it and for some reason, started passing it around the classroom.  As it made the rounds, other classmates drew on it, added things to it, and reduced it to something much less than it had been.  At the end of class, the defaced picture was thoughtlessly left on a desk.  The new girl saw it on the desk, picked it up, and looked at it.  She then awkwardly announced, to no one in particular, "Does anyone want this?"

One student in that class realized what had happened. One student watched someone else experience rejection and embarrassment.  And one student, just one, did something about it.  I want it, said that student.  The student took it from the girl, put it in a backpack, and brought it home. 

Bullying and unkindness will probably always be a part of school, and of life. Despite the lectures and programs and various efforts, unkindness unfortunately remains.  But every student, every person, has the power to be the one who sees someone else's sadness and does something.  It's not just limited to the classroom and it's not just limited to kids.  Unkindness abounds, but we can meet it head on, teach our kids to do the same, and be that one person who cares.  It takes courage to be that one person.  But it's worth it. 

It can make all the difference in the world.     

Have a good week.  

Coffee Toffee and Comfort Zones

Recently, I tried the Coffee Toffee Cupcake at Crumbs Bake Shop.  I visited the one in Braintree, Massachusetts, but there are locations all over the United States.

I usually don't try coffee flavored desserts.  I don't drink coffee, never have, and I am not a huge fan of coffee flavoring.  But since, as readers of this blog can attest,  I seem to only eat desserts with chocolate, caramel, or peanut butter, I decided it was time to get out of my comfort zone and try something different.

I am happy to say that I enjoyed the Coffee Toffee Cupcake.  It was a vanilla cupcake, topped with vanilla cream cheese coffee frosting, toffee pieces, and a caramel ribbon. The frosting was oddly addictive, the coffee flavoring adding just the right amount of edge to the cream cheese flavor.  The toffee pieces and caramel added a welcome sweetness.  The cupcake was fresh and moist, but had a gooey caramel center, which was a bit much after the rich frosting and toffee candy.  For me, surprisingly, it was the coffee cream cheese flavoring that I enjoyed the most.

There is something to be said for getting out of your comfort zone.  There is a graphic that has been all over the internet, showing a circle which is labeled "your comfort zone" and another circle far away from the comfort zone, which is labeled "where the magic happens." I am a big fan of this graphic. Getting out of my comfort zone led me to St. Francis House.

A number of years ago, my son was performing in Boston, half a block away from the St. Francis House homeless shelter.  I had heard about it and was interested in the work that was being done there.  I thought about trying to take a tour after dropping my son off for rehearsals but it seemed too daunting at the time.  There was some discomfort around the idea of walking through the doors alone.  There was definitely some fear.

Fear often comes from a place of ignorance.  A few years after that I had the opportunity to learn more about St. Francis House through a special program and dramatic presentation.  I found out more about the shelter and learned more about the poor and homeless people that it serves.  I learned that 800 people a day find a hot meal at St. Francis House.  They also find rehabilitative services, mental health and substance abuse counseling, clothing, vocational services, medical services, and art therapy.  I finally took my tour, and then met with the director, and found out that there was a need for a music program.  

That was about three years ago.  Now, when I walk toward the doors of St. Francis House, I am greeted by people who call me "teacher" or "the music lady."  Some standing just outside the doors will ask me if music will be happening today.  Some will see me a block away and will share with me that they were talking about music group with a friend that very morning.  Some will stop me as I am leaving and will simply say thank you.  

I look forward to my St. Francis House visit every week.  I look forward to sharing music, to visiting with those that attend the music programs, and to feeling the joy and the healing power that music provides.  And I can't believe that there was a time that I hesitated to walk through those doors.  

There is magic, indeed, lying just outside of our comfort zones. It's a great place to be.

Have a sweet week.  

Alternative Ice Cream and Angels

I recently happened upon FoMu Alternative Ice Cream and Cafe in Allston, Massachusetts. FoMu ice cream is a vegan ice cream which uses coconut milk as a base.  A few select flavors use an almond-cashew blend and their soft ice cream has a soy base.  The interesting thing about FoMu ice cream is that all of it is completely dairy free.  

Some people may be skeptical about dairy free ice cream.  But I'm happy to report that FoMu's Salted Caramel ice cream was as good as any traditional ice cream that I've tasted.  It had a smooth and creamy consistency, like milk-based ice cream but perhaps a touch softer, reminiscent of gelato.  The flavor was bold and very caramel, much more caramel than most salted caramel ice creams that I've tried.  Perhaps the omission of dairy and cream really lets the caramel flavor shine through.  I also enjoyed the Pumpkin Spice ice cream. The Pumpkin Spice was true to its name and had spicy notes of pumpkin pie flavors such as nutmeg and cinnamon.  More spicy than sweet, it tasted like a grown-up flavor, and was very reminiscent of the Fall season.

I was very happy to find FoMu because one of my daughters has a milk allergy.  She has been living with and managing this and other allergies for years, but especially because of the milk allergy, there are many things that she cannot eat.  Most of our ice cream outings offer her a predictably minimal choice.  She is limited to places that serve dairy-free sorbet, and it's always, inevitably, a choice of two: raspberry or lemon, raspberry or lemon.  One of the things she always wanted was to be able to go out for ice cream and order whatever she wanted. And so, I was ecstatic to present her with FoMu, a place where she could choose from twenty flavors.  I was overjoyed to watch her read the blackboard menu, announcing "Cake batter, cookie dough, salted caramel--I can actually have the salted caramel!"  We ordered four flavors and she tried them all.

I was very thankful to FoMu to be able to give her this small gift, to feel like everyone else who goes out for ice cream and to have the freedom to order whatever she wanted.  For those who are not familiar with what it's like to live with food allergies, or to live with someone you love who has them, I can tell you that it's a constant and that it is often difficult.  There's the worry about being safe, about having an accidental exposure and having a reaction.  There are the basic, practical considerations of will there be anything to eat at the school, the function, the party, the new restaurant, and the phone calls, inquiries, and micro-managing that go with that.  There are the social considerations of being the only one to eat a turkey sub when all the other kids are having pizza.  There are the medical considerations such as do you have your medications with you, and if not, no, you're not eating anything until we get home. Yes, it's a constant. 

There have been angels along the way, like the owner and creator of FoMu, who shine a little light on the task of living with food allergies.  It is to those people that I would like to pay tribute today.  To the pre-school moms who asked for my special allergy-free cake recipe and served only that cake at the party.  To the elementary school mom who served hot dogs instead of pizza at her son's birthday so that my daughter could feel included.  To the moms (and especially the kids who asked their moms to do it) who made special goodie bags for her that were safe.  To the neighbor who made a special trick or treat bag on Halloween night just for one child.  To an older sister, who at six years old, announced during Trick or Treating to unsuspecting homeowners that "Minnie Mouse has food allergies."  To the family members who have changed entire menus for holidays and celebrations so that she could be safe.  To the mom who consulted with me about her daughter's bat mitzvah menu so that my daughter would have enough to eat.  To those parents who did not shy away from dealing with their child's friend who has food allergies but who welcomed her for dinner and made her something special.  To her friends who ask what she can eat and who bring a safe snack to the celebration or bake something with her in mind. To all of you, I say thank you.  Your small kindnesses are more appreciated than you know, by a child who is now a teen who has lived with allergies all of her life.  But most especially, by her mom, who probably cares more than she does, who can't be with her everywhere or make all of her food or ensure that she is always included.  You have helped me to do that, and I am most grateful.

Go try some FoMu ice cream! You won't be disappointed.