Brighter Days: Caramelized Banana Cream Pie

Hello friends, I am just popping in here for a quick hello, and to tell you about this luscious pie I concocted recently. Dixon and I devoured slices while watching Meghan and Harry spill all of the tea during their interview with Oprah. Holy cow! There is so much to unpack there, but two things stuck with me: 1) I am so glad they got out and 2) Oprah is the queen when it comes to interviewing. Her questions were spot-on, and their answers more than a little shocking. So much drama there! While there is no drama over, there most certainly is pie. I wonder if Meghan and Harry bake pies?

Rose Pavlova with Raspberry Pomegranate Sauce

"And the Spring arose on the garden fair, 

Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; 

And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast 

Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest."  ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

Springtime in Saskatchewan.  You never know what you're going to get.  Yesterday, as I was photographing this pavlova, the windows were open, furnace was off, sandals were on - showing off my freshly pedicured toes, and the cats were roaming the perimeter of the place, no doubt scouting for any animal trespassers.  And today it's a blustery affair, with dark brooding skies and a mood to go with it.  Furnace is back on.  As is the winter uniform of leggings, slippers and sweater.  A stark contrast to the day that came before it.  A season still trying to figure itself out.  Which I get.  I think at the core that's all we are trying to do - figure ourselves out.  Over the weekend I watched the HBO series Olive Kitteridge.  If you get a chance, I highly encourage you to do so, too.  It's lovely to look at - the opening credits alone made me crave a doughnut and the woods, though not necessarily at the same time.  It's a story of a family and a small town, of lasting love and the turbulence of life over the span of 25 years.  I love movies and books where the characters age and every five or ten years you check in with them to see how they're doing and how they've changed and mistakes they've made.  Love it.  I won't give anything away, but this series packs an emotional whammy.  The last hour alone made me weep like a baby because it took Olive most of her lifetime to figure herself out.  And it wasn't too late.  It's never too late.  

Ready: Raspberry & Cream Filled Angel Food Cake

“Spring drew on . . . and a greenness grew over those brown [garden] beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.”  ~ Charlotte Brontë

Let's usher in spring with a pretty cake, shall we?  Well technically it is spring, but in my neck of the woods there are still five foot snow banks in the front yard and flakes of snow not willing to give up just yet.  And so while we are waiting for warmer temps and the Great Spring Melt - my spirit doesn't care.  It has launched into the new season with abandon.  Many of you know that the last few months have been rather difficult for me, to put it mildly.  I am more than ready to kiss this season of the brokenhearted goodbye - along with all of those heavy, dark, sad days.  I'm ready for the fresh starts and bright hopes that springs brings with it.  I'm ready for rubber boots and rain showers.  I'm ready for longer days and a lighter heart.  I am ready. 

 

Seize the Season: Grapefruit & Ginger Cream Pie

Another week, flown on by.  And it all began with that shocking season finale of Downton Abbey.  Spoiler Alert! Skip to the recipe if you haven't seen Sunday's episode!  It was all a bit reeling, wasn't it?  And I can't seem to get Mathew Crawley's dead blue eyes out of my mind.  And that little trickle of blood.  Eeep!  Just goes to show, one minute you're on top of the world with a brand new baby boy and a massive inheritance and the next your life comes to an untimely end via a milk truck.  I know, it's not real life, and yes the actor desperately wanted off the show.  But there are little truths here.  Tragedy strikes any time, any place.  So Carpe Diem friends.  You only live once, or until Julian Fellowes decides your time is up.  It's time to eat more pie. 
 

Blush: Raspberry & White Chocolate Tiramisu

So I'm at work today, doing work stuff, and all I can think about is going home and picking my raspberries. It's that season again kids, and I totally love it.  I pad out into the yard, bare feet and all, which confuses the hell out of my handsome man.  "You are not wearing shoes?" he asks in a bit of sweet confusion.  And I reply, blushing just a little, "no, I love the feel of grass and dirt underfoot."  He just smiles and nods.  And slips on my Crocs.  I head back to the hot spot, against the garage and there is the towering raspberry patch.  It has exploded since last year, which means I sometimes have to sit on the ground to catch all of the low low low ones, then stretch to get all of the goodness smack against the garage.  Most of them go into my bowl, but if I'm telling the truth to you, and I always do, a helluva lot go in the mouth.  I relish these fleeting days of scratched up arms and mosquito bites just to pick a basket or two of my favourite berry.  The taste of sunshine is worth it.

Rhubarb Fool with Lavender Cream & Pistachios

I do this thing every year, every day, at this point in Spring - a walkabout around the yard.  I poke at perennials to see if they are still alive - most are but for some wild and crazy reason some don't make it.  (I lost Lamb's Ear and Globe Thistle and Purple Coneflower this year - what the hell?!).  If I were more organized and more nerdy I'd totally make a journal with drawings so I can remember where the hell I planted what, because I'm getting old and the short term memory is just not there anymore, though I can tell you who won the Stanley Cup in 1990 and what year Shakespeare in Love won the Best Picture Oscar.  If you're curious, keep on reading.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, garden nerd talk.  So in this walkabout around the yard, I'm always excited to go back to the veg patch - there is no action there yet - it's just a sad heap of wet, rotten leaves covering dirt until the Rototiller Man can come and work it up for me.  But there in the corner, thriving away in all of its big leafy business in my old friend Rhubarb - or the Barb as I lovingly call it. 

Change it Up: Buttermilk Scones with Lemon Curd

If you are a frequent visitor round here, you'll already have noticed a few changes.  Are you checking out that banner?   I snapped the photo of my lovely green beans last Summer, and now their nuance is a kindly reminder every time I create something on these pages.  While the first banner, in all it's cakey glory, was fine,  I wanted a bit of a change up, and we all agree that change is good, right?  Right. (Am I the only one who thinks of David Bowie every time I hear that word?)  A sweet simplicity was created and I'm super duper happy with the end result. Who knew bean leaves could be so darn gorgeous?  The gardener geek in me is released - much apologies.