sprinklefingers

My (extremely trusty) psychologist always tells me that the longest a mixed group of people can last when, say, vacationing in the same house, is 72 hours. Right at the 72 hour mark someone is sure to break. He prescribes long, solitary walks to keep this dreaded 72 hour curse at bay. Or, in my case, an hour-long run followed by 40 minutes of paddleboarding. 

I’ve been doing a lot of running this week, and I hate running. 

Just a day or so ago I posted about cooking for family while on vacation, and I’m still hoping my in laws never figure out how to find my blog. (If you know them, please don’t explain it. Thank you.) And the following story is too good to keep in, so here’s hoping they continue to think that computers and the internet are just a passing fad.

When we arrived in Hawaii I made a menu and a plan for a week of eating. I cruised the beach towns (in a sweet rented minivan, mind you) looking for produce. I pinned said menu to the fridge so that everyone could see what would be for dinner each night of our stay. And aside from the (literally) 45 comments concerning how much food we had in the fridge and the (again, literally) 56 comments about the drudgery of cooking, the public menu thing worked out well.

Until last night.

The menu very clearly stated:
Grilled tofu
Whole wheat noodles with peanut sauce
Ronnie’s orange broccoli
Oahu oranges & melon
Local milk chocolate squares

It was early afternoon when my father in law grabbed the keys to the minivan and announced he had to go in to town for something. As he drove away it dawned on me how many times I saw him standing in front of the fridge that morning staring at the menu.

He returned not too long after with a steak and a bag of frozen french fries. 

Now, I’d be lying if I said that this didn’t bother me. It bothered me a whole hell of a lot for about 11 minutes. But then I let it go. While I’d eat grilled tofu and broccoli any day of the week in any amount you’d feed it to me, I know some people don’t feel the same. Especially if you are in your mid-sixties, enjoy Larry McMurtry novels, and were raised by a family of elk hunters in Bend, Oregon. 

So, I continued with my plan to grill tofu and enjoy it happily with a heap of broccoli.

I prepared the broccoli using a stir fry recipe from my friend Ronnie Fein. (She posted it on her blog this week.) Only, being in a vacation house we don’t really have a frying pan large enough for a big batch of stir fry, so I ended up roasting the broccoli until tender and then tossing it with Ronnie’s orange/garlic/ginger sauce. But more on that later…

When dinner time rolled around and we were all seated at the table on the lanai - the smell of grilled steak in the air - everyone but my father in law had piles of tofu, peanutty noodles and broccoli on their plates - including his 5 year old grandson. He looked at his pile of frozen fries and said, “I can’t believe I have these on my plate. Would you mind passing the noodles? And I guess I’d better try that broccoli.” 

He took one bite of the broccoli and explained that he had never had it prepared any other way but boiled and that this version of broccoli was a revelation. And then he asked for seconds.

A small victory, but a victory for sure.

—-

Ronnie’s Beach House Broccoli

Follow Ronnie’s recipe only make the following adjustments:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Prepare the broccoli and toss it in a bit of canola oil and salt on a sheet tray. Roast for just a few minutes until bright green and crunchy. Transfer to a mixing bowl.

Heat a bit of canola oil in a small frying pan and add the green onion, garlic, ginger, chili pepper and orange peel. Sweat until tender then add the orange juice and let reduce. Once the sauce has reduced, remove it from the heat and let it cool slightly then toss with the broccoli. Finish with the sesame oil.

I served the broccoli cold because we’re in a warm climate, but it would be equally as delicious served hot.

—-

In case you’re curious, we have a Mexican feast on the menu for tonight. Mushroom tacos. Fingers crossed everyone will eat them!

Aloha from the tropical isle of Oahu. 

We are on a week-long family vacation. A Christmas gift from my in-laws. All of us (including said in-laws) crammed into a traditional Hawaiian bungalow on a stretch of beach called Lanikai. Google it. No, wait. I’ll do it for you.

Yes, things could be worse. I know. 

The thing I hate about vacation (aside from the fact that I’m paler than pale and can only spend time in the sun in 4 minute increments) is that you can’t take your kitchen with you. Sure, lots of folks are excited to get away - to do less laundry and cook fewer meals…but not me. Not cooking actually makes me itchy. The thought of eating every meal out for a week makes my insides feel funny (in more ways than one.) Cooking isn’t what I have to do - it’s what I want to do. 

Which is why I’m thankful for this sweet little bungalow and it’s 1950’s kitchen. It’s not much (and the knives will barely cut a slice of sandwich bread,) but it’s a place to cook and that makes me happy. 

Now, neither my mother in law or my father in law or my husband understand this. None of the three enjoy cooking. But let me tell you something - for having no interest in cooking the three of them sure are obsessed with food. It’s almost all I’ve heard about since we’ve been here. They walk into the kitchen and open the fridge and say, “Sure is a lot of food in here!” or “My god we’d better start eating!” Or (better yet and for the 15th time) “I’m just sorry you have to do the cooking.” Or (even better, especially since I’ve said multiple times that I want to cook and that I’m not simply saying that,) “Oh, gosh, Jami. You’re in the kitchen cooking again. I’m sorry.” And yesterday when I came home from the market I heard this: “Wow. You sure bought a lot of food!” And that’s when I lost it. 

I’ll admit I’m a tad dehydrated. I know spending a lot of time in the sun makes me a little irritable. But still, it surprised even me when I started in on my poor father in law. The words came spewing out of my mouth before I could stop myself. Of course now it’s all a blur, but I know I yelled a bunch of stuff about the amount of food it takes to cook meals for five people for a week and how they might be used to packaged and frozen everything but that’s not how I eat and if I’m in charge of the kitchen they need to let me be in charge and stop f&*king commenting on whether or not I had to buy olive oil at the f&*king market! For the love of you-know-who!

Okay, there. Now I feel better.

Anyways, I’m on vacation in Hawaii and I’m doing the cooking. End of story. Or, kind of…

…There’s a Whole Foods in the next town over. I went there yesterday. I was excited to discover all sorts of local produce - sniff the pineapples and grab bunches and bunches of apple bananas. I was smacked in the (sunburned) face with disappointment. Damn you Whole Foods for making your brands so cheap so that the local stuff seems so much more expensive. Russet potatoes grown in Oregon and packaged under the 365 Whole Foods brand were two dollars a pound less expensive than the russets that were Oahu grown. Coffee grown in Hawaii was THIRTEEN DOLLARS more expensive per pound than the 365 brand. Locally made granola overflowing with mango and ginger was (this is crazy) EIGHT DOLLARS more per pound than the Whole Foods stuff.

Of course I know that food is expensive in Hawaii. I’m not an idiot. But my Whole Foods experience really threw me for a loop. So much so that I (thank you Mr. Jobs) pulled out my iphone and searched for the local farmer’s markets. Found one. Went there. Bought Oahu potatoes and crispy little cucumbers. Molokai apple bananas. Kona coffee. Maui pineapples. And once again all was right with my world.

The only thing better than being happy in the kitchen cooking a delicious meal is being happy in the kitchen cooking a delicious meal while sipping a concoction I have been calling a Cool Breezer (I blame this name squarely on the bright sunshine. It really throws me for a loop.)

Here’s how you can make two Cool Breezers of your own:

You need:

• 1 juicy lime
• 6 chunks fresh Maui pineapple
• half of a thin-skinned very firm cucumber
• sparkling mineral water 

Make the breezer:

1. Cut the lime in half and squeeze one half of the juice into one tall glass and the other half of the juice into another tall glass.
2. Add three pineapple chunks to one glass and the remaining three to the other glass.
3. Slice the cucumber paper thin and add half the slices to one glass and the remaining slices to the other glass.
4. Grab a spoon and crush the pineapple and the cucumber into the lime juice.
5. Add ice and then fill the glass with the sparkling mineral water.
6. Enjoy your cool breezer while waiting for the charcoal to be ready on the Weber and while waiting for your Oahu russet potato oven fries to finish roasting.

Oahu Russet Potato Oven Fries
Serves 4

In my experience Oahu russets are rather small little guys. To feed four over-eaters and one kid I needed 10 potatoes.

You need: 

• 10 small russet potatoes
• kosher salt
• canola oil

Make the oven fries:

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
2. Cut the potatoes into thick wedges. With the smaller russets one potato yielded 4 wedges, so you may end up with more.
3. Place the wedges on a rimmed baking sheet and drizzle 4 tablespoons of canola oil over top then salt liberally.
4. Using your hands, mix the wedges to coat with the oil and salt.
5. Slide the baking sheet into the oven and enjoy a few sips of your Cool Breezer.
6. After 25 minutes check on your potatoes. Use a heat-proof spatula to move them around on the tray a bit. Close the oven door and reduce the heat to 375 and bake for about 10 more minutes or until the potatoes are easily pierced with a fork. Sip your Cool Breezer.
7. Turn the broiler on and let the potatoes sit under the broiler for mere seconds until their skin is nice and crispy and they’ve started to really brown in a few spots. Broiling will make you hot, so now’d be a good time to finish your Cool Breezer.

And, finally, I have to give a shout out to my new favorite fruit: the apple banana. I don’t  think one has truly lived until they have tasted this extraordinary fruit that looks like a banana but tastes like a strawberry-apple-banana smoothie. No fooling. Apple bananas, I love you and will miss you so much next week in my morning granola.

Hawaii in pictures:

First, the Cool Breezer.

Next, Oahu Oven Fries.

My beloved apple bananas:

And, finally, the view I have out the dining room window (of course we don’t eat indoors! That’s what the lanai is for!)

Happy Saturday!
In a rare turn of events it’s supposed to be sunny here in good ol’ PDX today. I for one will believe it when I see it because my ‘hood is currently shrouded in thick fog. Hey, Portland! It’s spring! Let the sun shine already!

Here’s a reading list for you. I loved every word… 

Hilarious yet filling account of artisanal foods coming out of Brooklyn (or is that Long Island City?) 

An inspiring account of the #3 chef in the (whole wide) world. Yes, El Bulli is involved.

My mothering instincts hate this (flu season is NOT over!), my (original) Willy Wonka obsessed self L O V E S this: lickable wallpaper!

And, finally, a piece highlighting Joan (the amazing) of Joan’s on 3rd in LA.  My favorite quote: She can tell by looking who among the staff has arranged the cupcakes, cookies, muffins and scones that sit on tiered cake stands in the bakery case. A lady truly after my own heart.

I have a granola addiction.

I love to make it. I love to eat it. At work we’re currently serving up three delicious types: peanut butter & jelly, blueberry & orange and nutty maple. I love all three of them equally and would eat them for every meal of the day if I could.

Problem is, they aren’t (probably) the best thing to eat for every meal of the day. They contain butter. And loads of nuts. Sure there’s fruit involved, but I’m no fool. I know all about granola and it’s ability to pretend to be hippie diet food while really being packed with more fat and calories than an Oregon Sea Salted Caramel Brownie*. Okay, maybe not. But you get the picture.

The other thing I’m addicted to is yogurt. Not long ago I told you about my honey problem. Well, people, yogurt is my new honey. Even if I have six very fine tubs of yogurt at home, I’ll still buy more if I go to the market. It’s like I’m building a bomb shelter and I plan to sustain my family on plain greek-style yogurt until the coast is clear. Or until we run out of yogurt - something that, by the looks of my fridge, would take a while.

Of course (you knew this was coming) I especially love granola + yogurt = together (forever.) As breakfast. As a snack. As lunch. As another snack. Thank god I’m not one of those dairy intolerant (or do they call it sensitive these days?) weirdos people!

The (other) problem is, I’m trying to watch what I eat (ugh) - since my decision to stop drinking so much damn half & half my body underwent a miraculous change and I magically shed twenty pounds. This is excellent news not only because I lost twenty pounds but also because I hate shopping for pants. With that chunk of weight missing from my body I can fit into all my old pants again. And none of them are elastic waisted or made of lycra! 

In order to steer clear of pants shopping, I’m doing my best to keep that extra twenty off. This means only one cookie a day instead of six. It means eating less brioche. And it also means limiting my granola intake. Boo hoo.

To get my fix I’ve been adding a sprinkle of toasty oats to my beloved yogurt each morning. While not perfect, and no way near as delicious, it’s a decent substitute. And aligns perfectly with my plan to avoid pants shopping.

By the way, isn’t pants the funniest word? Cracks me up.
 

Toasted Oats
Makes 1/3 cup

You need:

• 1/3 c thick cut rolled oats
• 1/4 t cinnamon
• 1/4 t canola oil

Toast the oats:

1. Preheat an uncoated frying pan over medium.
2. In a small bowl combine the oats, cinnamon and oil until all traces of the oil disappear.
3. Slide the oats into the pan and cook, stirring frequently, until you can smell toasty oats and the bits are beginning to take on some color.
4. Let cool and use them as you’d like.

For a larger batch of toasty oats, increase the amount of oats to 2 cups. The cinnamon would bump up to 1 1/2 teaspoons and the oil would go to 1 tablespoon. Combine as described above then spread out on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake in a 300 degree oven until toasted - about 10 minutes or until the oats take on the golden hue of your choosing.

Watch that your oats don’t scorch. Speaking from experience, they can go from perfectly golden to kinda burnt very quickly. 

And now! Photos!

 

*Yes, this is a treat on my bakery menu. Yes, the sea salt is actually from Oregon. Yes, there’s a post coming soon all about it!

Oh my lord, I am obsessed with Laurie Colwin. While she’s no longer with us - and died way too soon - when I read her work I sometimes close my eyes and wish with all my might that I could have known her. Of course, I close my eyes and wish with all my might about a lot of things and none of them have come true - but this wish is one definitely worth trying for.

A Writer In the Kitchen is my favorite work of Colwin’s. I’ve read it three times - and each time I read it I feel a sense of going home. It’s comforting and funny, insightful and warm, personable and loving - all of this adding up to (in my opinion) the perfect book. 

If you haven’t had the pleasure of reading Colwin, I insist you go get something by her. Now. Or later today. Or maybe this weekend. If you can’t figure out where to start, I suggest A Writer in the Kitchen. Maybe it will cast a spell on you, too.

Here’s one of my favorite Colwin passages - she’s describing how to make scrambled eggs in a double boiler. I just love her…

You scramble the eggs and add a tablespoon of cream. You then put a lump of butter into the top of a double boiler and when it melts, add the eggs. Stir constantly, remembering to have your blood cholesterol checked at the soonest possible moment. Stir as in boiled custard until you feel either that your arm is going to fall off or that you are going to start to scream uncontrollably. It is wise to have someone you adore talking to in the kitchen while you make these eggs, or to be listening to something very compelling on the radio. If you have truly mastered the art of keeping a telephone under your chin without its falling to the floor, a telephone visit always makes the time go faster.

Go to the library! Go to the bookstore! Get some Colwin!

My kid is just a few weeks into his fifth year and already it’s different than four. As if someone flipped a switch, his already amazing brain kind of exploded and became even more amazing. He’s tuned in. He’s thoughtful. He’s full of love. And most of all - most of all - he gets me. 

I have favorite parts of every day with him - waking him up in the morning and seeing his bedhead. Sitting him down for breakfast and listening to him talk about his plans for the day. Seeing his reaction when there’s a pile of buttermilk biscuits (or chicken satay or chicken soup or fruit salad) on the dinner table. But lately my favorite part of each day is reading to him before bed.

You see, he’s become completely obsessed with Edna Lewis. At first I know he was feigning interest just to placate me. I’d gush on about her and her thoughts on food and her amazing recipes and he’d nod and smile. But then I found this book and he went from pretending to be interested to being obsessed. We have read Bring Me Some Apples and I’ll Make You a Pie nightly for weeks straight - he loves the seasonal approach - he loves the sing-songy rhymes - he loves the idea of spending the summer stocking the larder - he loves the recipes. 

He thought we should share one of Edna’s recipes with you. Corn Pudding is, hands down, his ‘most favorite food in the whole world’. And, in fact, he loves it all the way to Pluto and back (a journey, he’d like to remind you, that would take 10 years…so that’s a lot of love.)

This dish is rich. And filling. And packed with full-fat dairy. I wouldn’t make any alterations to the ingredients if I were you. Instead, I’d enjoy a smaller portion and savor the good stuff. 

Corn Pudding
Inspired by Edna Lewis
From the recipes found in Bring Me Some Apples and I’ll Make You a Pie by Robbin Gourley.

Serves 8

Notes: Of course it’s not corn season. But that’s okay. We’ve found that you can make the pudding with frozen corn and the results are definitely acceptable. Using fresh corn cut from the cob results in a kernel that melts into the pudding a bit more than does the frozen, and both ways are delicious.

The recipe includes freshly grated nutmeg, and you really shouldn’t leave it out. It adds so much dimension to the finished dish.

You need:

• 3 T unsalted butter, melted - plus more for buttering your cooking vessel 
• 2 heaping cups best quality frozen corn - or 4 ears worth of corn cut from the cob
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 t kosher salt
• 2 large eggs (use pastured or farm eggs if you can find them)
• 2 cups whole milk
• 2 dashes of cayenne pepper
• 1/2 - 3/4 t freshly grated nutmeg
• 2 T cornmeal 

Make the Corn Pudding:

1. Preheat oven to 350 and butter a 1.5 qt ceramic baking dish.
2. In a medium sized mixing bowl, combine the corn with the sugar and salt and stir well. Set aside
3. In a separate bowl, whisk the eggs until the yolks are fully combined with the whites then (while whisking) add the milk in a slow stream. 
4. To the milk and eggs, add the melted butter, cayenne pepper and nutmeg then whisk until combined.
5. Add the liquid to the corn/sugar and stir until combined.
6. Scatter the 2 T of cornmeal on the bottom of your baking vessel then gently pour in the corn pudding.
7. Find a roasting pan larger than the dish the corn pudding is in and place the corn pudding inside. Fill the roasting pan with water until it reaches about 3/4 of the way up the sides of the corn pudding dish.
8. Pop the whole thing in the oven and bake for 1 hour or until set and golden brown.
9. Let cool for 5-10 minutes before serving.

We like corn pudding with just about anything. Most recently we had it with braised red cabbage, sausages and roasted kale. In the summer I dream of eating big bowls of it with fresh garden tomatoes on the side. Of course it’s a dream because no one should really eat big bowls of this stuff - a small serving is all it takes to experience the deliciousness. [I cannot believe I just said that. But, alas, it’s true.]

Why in the world does something like Duncan Hines Frosting Creations exist?

I must be completely wrong, but I thought the country was finally picking up on the fact that putting huge amounts of gross junk in your body isn’t good for you? But, of course, giant corporations keep pushing the (complete) crap onto grocery store shelves and people keep buying it. And I can see it - busy mom wants to make a cake (or cupcakes) but is short on time so she buys a tub of Duncan Hines ‘starter’ frosting at the megamarket and grabs the packet of magical Frosting Creations dust and decides it can’t hurt - a powder that has the power to turn frosting blue and flavor it like cotton candy?  The kids will love it AND the shade of blue perfectly matches little Billy’s party color scheme! 

But hold on a second. I should be nicer. And more understanding. Maybe the reason so many tubs of frosting (and now packets of magical frosting dust) sell is because busy people don’t realize how easy it is to make homemade frosting. Frosting that can be whipped up with real ingredients and flavored with real flavorings. Not cotton candy, but vanilla. Or vanilla bean. And cinnamon. Lemon and lime. Orange. Chocolate. Coffee. Almond. Mint. Or a combination - chocolate and coffee. Orange and chocolate. Cinnamon and vanilla. It’s a complete cliché, but the possibilities truly are endless. Is it as easy as opening a tub of frosting and a packet of powder? Not quite. But it’s nearly as easy and definitely worth the extra effort. I mean, what ingredient makes frosting blue and flavors it like cotton candy anyway? Not something I want to put in my mouth, that’s for sure.

Here’s a quick and easy (just three steps!) recipe for simple buttercream - the kind you remember from your days of licking the beaters in your childhood kitchen. I’ll also include tips & tricks on flavoring the icing…just no cotton candy!

Vanilla Buttercream

 Ingredients:

• 227 g  softened unsalted butter 
• 1247 g sifted (lump free) powdered sugar
• 1 Tablespoon vanilla extract
• ¼ cup whole milk (approximately)

Make the buttercream: 

1. Using a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat butter until smooth.
2. Add the sifted powdered sugar and vanilla.
3. Begin to add milk, starting with half of the amount, and then continue adding it until the buttercream is smooth and the desired consistency is reached. You want it to be spreadable but not at all runny.

Using the Vanilla Buttercream:
Orange: Add 1 T of orange juice and the zest of 1 orange as you’re adding the milk. (You can also do the same with lime or lemon juice & zest.)
Vanilla bean: split and scrape one vanilla bean and add the seeds to the butter before creaming.
Maple: Add 4 T maple syrup IN PLACE of 4 T of milk. Spice it up with 1/2-1 t cinnamon if you’d like!
Chocolate: Add 5 T best quality cocoa powder plus 1/4 t kosher salt with the powdered sugar. You may need to increase the milk by a smidge. (For chocolately chip buttercream: Chop some chocolate until it’s in shards. Mix in the chocolate shards to your liking.)

Using the Mint Buttercream:
Choco-Mint: add 5 T best quality cocoa powder to powdered sugar. At the end add more plain milk if necessary - but just a touch!


Now, I seriously do not want to hear about you making bubblegum flavored frosting with the help of a magical powder…got it? Good.

Oh, Easter.

Mine flew by in a frenzy of seersucker pants and chocolate eggs. Add in brunch for eight prepared by moi (my French classes are really paying off), some sunshine and a few glasses of bubbly and you’ve got a pretty perfect day…if I do say so myself.

Brunch was delightful: We feasted on pain perdue (there’s that French again), bacon, a yogurt bar (complete with granola, fresh fruit, saucy figs and honey-preserved hazelnuts) and the most delicious asparagus you can imagine.

Here’s the recipe:

Roasted Asparagus with Meyer Lemon + Duck Eggs
serves 4-6
inspired by Sophie Dahl

you need:

• 6 duck eggs*, hard boiled (perfect instructions here)
• 20-24 stalks asparagus (about 2 bundles), washed with tough ends trimmed
• 1 large or 2 small meyer lemons, zested & juiced
• 4 T best quality olive oil, plus some for drizzling
• salt
• pepper
• 1/2 cup finely grated parmigiano-reggiano
• truffle oil for finishing

make it:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
2. Arrange the asparagus on a sheet tray in a single layer. Drizzle lightly with olive oil.
3. Roast the asparagus for 15 or so minutes or until blistery and browned in spots - take care to not overcook.
4. While the asparagus is roasting, whisk together the lemon zest, lemon juice and olive oil then season to taste with salt and pepper. Set aside.
5. Finely chop the eggs. A serrated knife will come in handy here.
6. Once the asparagus is roasted, the lemon/oil has been whisked together and the eggs have been chopped, plate your dish:
   Arrange the asparagus on your plate or platter then top with the parm. Next, drizzle the lemon/oil over top. Then scatter the chopped eggs all over and dot a precious few drops of truffle oil around the plate.
   If you’d rather plate individually, follow the same instructions only do it smaller and repeat it several times.

I ate so much asparagus yesterday. I literally could not stop eating this. The duck eggs were so perfect when eaten with the bright meyer lemon - then add in the saltiness of the parm…and the earthy flavor of the truffle oil. OH MY GOD, so SO good.

Add in some crusty baguette for soaking up the lemony goodness, and you’ve got one delicious dish on your hands.

With all the spring asparagus around, you really have no excuse but to make this!

*Yes, you could make this with chicken eggs, but the duck eggs really make this heavenly. You can procure duck eggs from your local farmer’s market or well stocked fancy foods shop.

Oh, technology. Sometimes I love you. Sometimes I hate you. Sometimes I’m on the fence about you.

Here’s something I’m on the fence about: Craftsy has an Alice Medrich-taught chocolate cake class on tap - you pay a one time class fee of $59.99 and you get to watch the ‘class’ as many times as you’d like for as long as you’d like.

Huh.

On one hand, online learning makes a lot of sense to me. But (there’s always a but!) as someone who has taken many a cooking class and who has taught just as many, I like the idea of real, live teaching. I like the idea of real, live learning. But mostly - mostly - I like the opportunity for mistakes that in-person teaching/learning provides.

Let’s face it. Things are never going to go as perfectly as a cookbook in your home kitchen. Last week I dropped an entire saucepan of Marcella Hazan tomato sauce INSIDE my cooktop. And just yesterday I had to throw out a pan of scrambled eggs - I accidentally had the stove turned up to high when I added the eggs to the pan.

But my favorite mistakes are the ones I make in front of others - outside of the safety of my 1960’s home kitchen - while teaching classes. Here’s an example: I was teaching a class on cinnamon rolls and attempted to make a batch of sticky sauce as a topping. It took THREE tries before I came up with a batch that wasn’t scorched. Or the time - again, while teaching - that I overscooped the batter I put into the wells of a cupcake pan and ended up with a massive batter spill that coated the bottom of the oven. Burnt batter, anyone?

In both of these situations I was able to use these screw ups as teachable moments (can you tell I have a 5 year old? I am all about teachable moments these days) - but screwing up in front of a bunch of people who view you as an expert is really rather helpful - it levels the field. And it provides the opportunity for me to explain how to fix mistakes. This bit of information (how to remedy screwups) is literally some of the most valuable information you can have in your kitchen arsenal. Because if you can fix problems along the way - with caramel or whatever it is - you’re really in control.

So, back to online classes. When they’re slick and edited and totally put together, that element of screwups is stripped away. And the student is forced to look at perfection and strive for perfection with the delusion that everything they ever make should turn out perfectly the first time around. And, seriously, that’s just not always going to happen.

So, while I love the idea of an online chocolate cake class, I love the experience of real, live mistakes even more. Of course, it helps if you can handle people laughing at you.

Or is that laughing with you?