Denise's Blueberry Patch

Chocolate was made for rainy days

It’s been a rainy week. While we watch the water table rise, and try to stay clear of the mud here in Estonia, it’s SNOWING in Spain (think blizzard, North Dakota, January, and you’ll get the picture), and expected to worsen in the next 24 hours. Although I'm sure it's a difficult time for Spaniards not used to such an early snowstorm, we saw a hilarious news report of a team of cows (with cowbells) on the loose, on a highway, in the storm. I did pray to the Lord about all the rain, but he seems intent on sending us a whole lot more. Should we be collecting rainwater, I wonder? In the meantime, inclement weather is always a great time to bake something chocolaty.

Someone once told me that baking is an exercise in precision, like carpentry or brain surgery; cooking, on the other hand, lends itself to experimentation and creativity. Since that time long ago, I have adhered to baking recipes very strictly, whereas my attitude towards entrees and side dishes has been more like a seasoning and combo free-for-all. Case in point: my Thanksgiving pumpkin cheesecake hasn’t been altered in ten years, and the card on which I hand-wrote it is affectionately fingerprinted with vanilla and pumpkin. Conversely, I rarely make meat or vegetables the same way twice, using whatever is handy or sounds adventurous. There’s something very satisfying about throwing a loose handful of sea salt into a pot or pan instead of measuring a tablespoon. The up side is that there’s little pressure, and the element of surprise (Note: I draw the line occasionally, as I did this morning when Matt asked if I would put jalapenos in the oatmeal). On the other hand, I’m finding my powers of recall diminishing with age, which makes it difficult to repeat an especially yummy experience. 

As a result of joining this ‘club’, which is really more like a weekly open-book test of kitchen prowess, my approach to baking is dramatically changing. As long as there is a good foundation for a baked item, which includes the chosen method of mixing and a decent balance of chemical constituents (rising agent, moisture and fat agents, a grain or protein of some sort, etc.), there is actually a lot of room for creativity and experimentation.

Take this week’s challenge: Dorie’s Chocolate Chocolate Cupcakes. I had no flour, but a lot of wheat flakes. Hence, they went into the VitaMix to be “floured” with the cocoa, baking soda, baking powder and sea salt. Along with a few other economy-based alterations (1 egg instead of 2, milk and vinegar instead of buttermilk, and half the sugar), what resulted was an incredibly moist muffin that reminded me of the chocolate bran muffins I used to buy with my morning coffee from a bakery in Arlington, Massachusetts. Surprise! Not only were they delicious, they jogged wonderful memories of a time very precious to me: New England autumns, Victorian neighborhoods, first-time home ownership, good job and great friendships. Food does that, if it’s memorable. These little critters didn't rise much, probably the gluten:soda:powder ratio was off, but they were cute, and in a spirited show of adventure I sprinkled Rapunzel Koco chips (coconut slivers) on top instead of making the chocolate icing called for in the recipe. Très Yum!

TWD: Pumpkin Muffins and .... Life Savers?

Just in time for Thanksgiving season, Pumpkin Muffins was this week’s TWD challenge. Being reasonably over jet lag, I was relieved to return to weekly baking with something simple. Dorie’s recipe is either a replica or similar facsimile of Sarabeth Levine’s (of Sarabeth restaurants in NYC) pumpkin muffin recipe: spicy, full of walnuts and raisins, and topped with sunflower seeds. The recipe did not disappoint us, either, even when I halved the sugar. Because my husband and I do not like to “taste” the sugar in desserts or breads, I usually don’t use any more than a ¼ cup for any recipe. A dozen muffins certainly do not need more than that, especially when raisins are added.

With a successful batch of muffins at our disposal, this week has otherwise begun with a flurry of activity as we try to pick up where we left off in September. Olivia and I began our morning preschool lessons, which today consisted of me drawing a lot of stick figures and animals while she identifies body parts, learning the alphabet, and marching around to music. Matt has been making appointments and setting up meetings, and continues to get the yard in order. I created a household To Do list as long as my arm and am beginning piano lessons, but got distracted early in the day on the Not-on-my-list-To-Do item of digging in my kitchen cupboards for something, getting exasperated after breaking an olive oil bottle, and dismantling all six pantry shelves to re-organize. Everything was piled onto the kitchen table, sorted, combined where possible, put in Tupperware where advisable, the shelves wiped down and now the world is much better.  It was a very productive day, and I was looking forward intensely to 2:00, when Olivia goes down for a nap. One of the pantry items she had pulled out herself was a bag of Life Savers. I let her hold a couple of pieces in their wrappers, but refused to open them. Not before her nap, no way! Matt came in for lunch. She went to her daddy. It is unbelievable how she knows to do this at two! Daddy opened them, of course. I walked in and found them both giggling and happily sucking away at the lifesavers. Of course I wasn’t happy anymore. My afternoon hour of quiet and peace was now put on hold until after the sugar wore off; there's always the possibility it wouldn’t even happen! 

I thought about whether or not to make Matt feel badly about coming in and disrupting my plan. I held my tongue for a really long time. They were so cute together. Olivia was chatting up a storm and being affectionate, which Matt adores. I wish I could say I was a good wife and just let it be, but unfortunately my depravity eventually gave way, and I had to at least hint at what he had done. I mean, who gives sugar to a toddler right before a nap? What actually came out of my mouth was “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to keep up with Olivia this afternoon unless you go get me a Diet Coke.” Our conversation ensued as follows:

He replied, “Why don’t you have a lifesaver?”

Me: “The sugar will give me a headache.”

Him: “Why don’t you make a pot of coffee?”

Me: “Because I can’t drink anymore without milk.”

Him: “But I got you milk yesterday.”

Me: ”No, you didn’t.”

Him: “Yes, I did.”

Me: “No, you got me two bags of keefir, instead.”

Him: “I did? Well, I must have forgot.”

Now, if I had been keeping score, which I never do (yeah right!), the score would be Denise 2, Matt 0.  I had asked for milk, because I wanted to drink lattes all week. But the Holy Spirit wouldn’t let me go down that road. I left the room and went into the kitchen. I didn’t need a Diet Coke, I reasoned with myself. That would be just selfish, to make my husband drive to the store to get it for me. He would do it, if I wanted him to. He's either that sweet or I'm that selfish. I spied the bag of Life Savers on the counter. Oh well, maybe he’s right, I thought, and popped a cherry-flavored one into my mouth. Not bad. Within minutes, I was as sugar-happy as the two of them, and three hours later, Olivia finally went down for a nap.

How I Voted

Our ballots are in the mail! It’s certainly not as much fun as going to the polls, but wow, what a privilege to be able to vote while overseas. During my first election here in Estonia, I watched in wonderment as the parliamentary members cast their votes, members who the locals either feared or trusted, but either way, had to accept the outcome. As a result, I have come to better understand and appreciate the U.S. Constitution and even the phrase ‘certain unalienable rights’ while living abroad. 

Oh how I appreciate the sacrifice that made those documents, our freedoms, and monuments to Christian beliefs possible! Someone recently wrote to me about the political climate in the US. She sounded discouraged, angry, and worn out. It’s no wonder, if she’s reading the papers and watching TV. She’s voting for Obama because she thinks he’s a good guy, and because she admires his devoutness. She wishes she lived in Europe like I do, away from all the nonsense. I understood her frustration, but I wanted to tell her “NO! You do NOT want to live anywhere but America! And don’t watch so much TV! Don’t believe the lies!”

I don’t know where I’m going with this; I hope it’s not too depressing.

Yes, Europe has a culturally rich history that is preserved in crumbling castles, quirky folk music, and wonderful traditions like (gasp!) lighting real candles on real pine trees at Christmas. But that beauty inside a culture only goes so far. Look beyond what the external eye can see, or what you hear at an event, or even what people are saying. What’s the saying, “talk is cheap”? Get a vision for what a whole people group is really all about. Consider its history as relative to where they are at both spiritually and physically. It’s really not fair to only see physical manifestations of the effects of government or religion on a people. Just where are they at spiritually? Ephesians and Romans talk a lot about spiritual wickedness, especially in high places such as governments and authorities, and about being careful to not let the darkness in the world dampen our love and enthusiasm for the things of God. Just how discerning am I when it comes to identifying wickedness in high places?

Estonia is definitely a country that has abandoned God, and that makes it very different from America. Christianity is what makes America really special from nearly all other world powers, I can tell you that much. When we were in the south and midwest last month, for instance, we were struck with the full-on freedom Americans have to put up a billboards along the roadside proclaiming spiritual principles; one memorable one in Minnesota was "God is Pro Life." Until you have lived out-of-country, in a place where God is just not a factor, you don't know how precious, how awesome that kind of freedom is!

I recall when I first stepped foot on Estonian soil. I was excited and joyful about seeing my first Estonian, and looking them in the eye. But what happened was the opposite. No one looked me in the eye. And definitely no Hawaiian leis! How out of place that display of warmth would be here. I physically felt the presence of blackness; it was a heavy blanket of bondage like I’d never thought really existed except in stories about the deep dark jungles of Africa at the turn of century. But that was my only internal reference point, in fact, for mentally understanding what was happening to me. It was a little more than frightening initially, and it jolted me out of my honeymoon haze, but by the time our luggage had been unloaded onto the platform I was graced with the even more powerful presence of God’s love. 

Since that first day, I have grown to love living here. I don’t pay any attention to the darkness that exists…for I have learned to NEVER give place to the satanic forces that rule here. I don’t allow the mention of the enemy’s name in my house, even, which probably has bothered a few preachers we’ve had as guests, but, well, it is my home to keep. We live with constant joy and peace, and love to marvel at God’s goodness in our lives. 

I’ll close by sharing one dimension of how spiritual darkness manifests itself here. Take a look at the WHO’s Suicide Table here- while Estonia is not in the top ten, it’s neighbor Lithuania is third in line after China and India. What is really telling is that of the top 10, 7 countries are European. Out of the top 20 – 12 are in Europe!

It may take a historian to lay it out for us properly, but one way of understanding how this can happen to an entire continent is to consider what a people group considers sacred. Suicide is evidence of people not considering the very heartbeat of life as sacred, first with abortion. Then take God out of the picture altogether, and insert stars (even human celebrity 'stars'!), trees and rocks. I don’t know about you, but the last time I prayed to a rock I don’t think it heard me. Hugging a tree didn’t seem to help either, although it didn't lash out at me or anything. The last time I looked at the stars and tried to make a decision based on their position there was still a lot of guesswork and uncertainty and a zillion angles to consider. God makes life worth living, he gives breath to every living being, and I will worship Him and Him only. He makes life simple when we would make it complex. He gives rest when the world would make us weary! He hears and answers prayer. He is mighty! There are many little ‘g’ gods, but only one supreme big ‘G’ God, and He is King.

Anyways, that's my whole round-a-bout way of saying I voted for the candidate who will most likely fight for preserving the sanctity of life in American culture.

TWD: Caramel Peanut-Topped Brownie Cake

Ummm, I don’t think this is quite what Mrs. Greenspan had in mind when she wrote the recipe for  Caramel Peanut-Topped Brownie Cake; and if there weren’t the Rules for this baking club that require bakers post twice a month I probably would have waited until all our coughing, sneezing, and jet lag were over with, because I destroyed this recipe, and deserve to be thrown out of the club, or at least suspended, until I can unpack and finish the laundry, which will definitely take a few more weeks. I even had a hard time remembering what my blog was called, since I haven’t bookmarked it on my recently swept hard drive. I can just hear my mom say "Isn't that just something.." a very satisfying upper-midwestern type of expression, I even started saying it myself before we left. But the trouble really began with the cryptic shopping list I gave my husband this morning; I should have specified heavy cream, instead of coffee cream, and I should have asked for peanuts instead of using the giant bag of walnuts given to us by departing American friends. It was as if I wanted the disaster to occur. Some times a person just wants to make do with what one has; other times, one just invites catastrophe. I have walked that fine line of resourcefulness and recklessness all my life. The cake wasn’t difficult, I am getting the hang of Dorie's "combine until just wet" method of cake baking, although I may have forgotten it was in the oven until I smelled a faint burnt odor while upstairs. This I call the reckless abandonment of the Timer. And it’s definitely not hard to carmelize sugar and water under normal circumstances either, but the heat of the oven during the baking of the cake made me so sleepy I may have cut a few corners making the topping by stirring in the butter and, (forgive me, I know I’ll regret this when we actually try to eat it) SOUR cream and condensed milk (I’m cringing just writing it…WHAT was I thinking??) a little sooner than I should have. So, instead of a caramely, peanutty topping we have more of a grainy slush oozing over bitter walnuts, with a decent chocolate cake underneath. That’s what I get for not using heavy cream like I was supposed to, not waiting for the caramelizing of the sugar, not getting my rest, joining this baking club…oh…. right, this is for publication.

On another baking-related note: I finally fell asleep last night about 6 am (still on CST) and remembered I left a zip-locked bag of chocolate chunker cookie dough in my mom’s freezer… so mom if you read this, that’s what those black things are in there. Just bake ‘em for 20 minutes when you need a treat.

I promise to post pictures and a recap of our stateside trip VERY SOON! Regardless of whether or not I finish the laundry.