My March edition of French macarons is St. Patrick’s Day themed, of course.
I decided on Irish Coffee for my first flavour profile.
The shells are flavoured with espresso powder. The dam is Dark Chocolate/Irish Cream Ganache. It surrounds a centre of homemade salted caramel.
For my past several posts, I’ve been writing about my foray into ChatGPT.
These posts have included notes about ai assistance I’ve received with indoor decor, painting cabinets, landscaping, lesson preparation for a workshop I teach, exercises to boost metabolism, and art work guidance.
Another area where I’m receiving extraordinary help is in that of a sustainable diet – also intended to boost metabolism.
After the usual question and answer format, the ChatGPT app developed an eating program specifically for my age, activity level, and health status that is both doable and liveable.
Regular check ins are a part of it, and the always kind and supportive approach worked into the algorithm is most helpful.
As I enter week three of the eight week reset developed for me, I’ve lost 2.5 lbs, and 1/2 inch from my waist. These are the measurable victories.
The things that matter far more to me than rapid results and/or the numbers on the scale are: slow and sustainable results, a healthy higher protein and lower carb eating plan, and my clothing fitting better.
So far, all three are happening.
Like hubs, our neighbour here in South Texas has Norwegian heritage.
The day that we made Lefse, she stopped by to see how our recipe differed from hers.
Yesterday, she stopped by with a gift of several Kringla cookies that she always bakes to perfection.
We’re so very blessed to spend our winters in a diverse, loving, and caring 50+ community.
Yesterday was bread baking day.
I wasn’t in the best of moods when I started. In fact, you could say I was downright grumpy (another story).
When I took the first baked loaf out of the pan, my ocd-ish personality wasn’t pleased, and now, even more grumpy.
I took the photo, sent it to our daughter, and told her about my mood.
Her reply was, “Oh Mom … bread knows, and it’s manifesting you!”
With that, I cracked up laughing and got on with my day.
By the way, the other two loaves came out perfect.
Before Christmas, I asked my FaceBook friends and family if any of them had any experience with the Chef Preserve Vacuum Sealer.
I was looking to vacuum seal a good lot of Swiss Raclette cheese that would be left from our Christmas Eve meal. The cheese is dear in price, so I sure didn’t want to lose any of it to spoilage. Vacuum sealing was the number one suggestion.
A nurse friend of mine from at home in Canada was the first to reply with a detailed and thorough positive review. This gal is a great cook and a thrifty homemaker, and an honest, sincere person, so I trusted her opinion. I gave it a few more days and no one else replied with personal experience, but another nurse friend gave the system a very good review via her friend who uses it. She said she planned on buying this for herself. This is another gal whose opinions I trust.
Although I always check them, I’m never sure of online reviews by folks I don’t know.
I ordered the sealer, and immediately vacuum sealed and froze the leftover cheese.
I was thrilled with how slick and easy it was to operate. I love that the unit is small and that the bags are reusable.
** I’m in no way affiliated with the company, so this review is unsolicited and unpaid**
I’ve always wanted to try to make focaccia bread.
It’s a satisfying tasting experience to eat it warm and dipped in a plate of olive oil/balsamic vinegar.
Two days ago, I finally took the reins and made it!
I’ll be making it often now.
There comes a point in your life when you need to stop eating other people’s bread and make your own!”
~ Chris Geiger
“The smell of good bread baking, like the sound of lightly flowing water, is indescribable in its evocation of innocence and delight…
[Breadmaking is] one of those almost hypnotic businesses, like a dance from some ancient ceremony. It leaves you filled with one of the world’s sweetest smells… there is no chiropractic treatment, no Yoga exercise, no hour of
meditation in a music-throbbing chapel. that will leave you emptier of bad thoughts than this homely ceremony of making bread.”~ MFK Fisher The Art of Eating
My Christmas gift to myself this year was a raclette grill.
A part of my heritage is Swiss and many years ago, I enjoyed a raclette evening at the home of a nurse friend and colleague who had, as a young teen, immigrated with her family to Canada from Switzerland.
The evening and the meal was so enjoyable that, over the years, it was never far from my mind whenever I was planning to entertain.
This year, I finally purchased the grill and planned the meal for Christmas Eve with hubs’ brother and his wife.
It was relaxing and enjoyable. Each person grilled whatever they wanted from the variety of foods available, and the raclette cheese was constantly melting in the little shovels that sit under the grill.
Missing in my feature photo are the cooked baby potatoes and cooked mini carrots. There was no room on the table for them. The little ramekins on each plate held individual carrot salads.
The melted raclette cheese was rich and smooth without the long strings like melted mozzarella would have, and was a perfect topping for the potatoes.
It was a brand new dining experience for everyone but me. It was a brand new food prep experience for me.
We’ll definitely do this again, and often!
Last week, I made my annual Christmas macarons.
I make these every year as a part of our Christmas gifts to our friends here.
I decided this year to paint them with edible glitter paint. This was all good and well, until I discovered that the food grade paint brushes I purchased, were too thick for the designs I wanted.
I persevered. The red ones have a vanilla bean ganache filling. The painted tops were “supposed” to be gold ribbons and bows. Instead, they came out looking like mahjong tiles.
The white ones have peppermint white chocolate ganache filling. They’re “supposed” to have holly wreaths painted on them. They’re close, but not what I had envisioned.
The green ones have a rum/dark chocolate ganache filling and the painted designs are “supposed” to be abstract Christmas trees. Oh well.
The good news is, they came off the mats beautifully, they matured to the perfect consistency, and all of the fillings are delicious.
As the old saying goes, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”.
Hubs is Norwegian as far back as he can trace his roots on both of his parents’ sides.
One of their typical pre-Christmas activities is to make lefse, a Norwegian flatbread made with mashed potatoes and flour.
My mother-in-law made beautifully thin and soft lefse. In their family, good lefse is defined in comparison to their mom’s. She taught me how to make it, and I passed the skills on to our daughter, who will, in turn, teach both of our grandchildren.
I hadn’t made lefse since we started coming to Texas, but decided it was time, so purchased all of the equipment and yesterday, made a big batch (192 rounds), along with my sister in law, Lori. Hubs’ brother is also wintering in our park now and he loves lefse too. Lori had never made it before so wanted to learn and practice every step.
This was our Christmas gift to our guys.
It’s not an easy task and took us 8.5 hours of rolling and frying to make the amount we did. My feature photo is one stack of many we made yesterday. This amount used a 10 lb (4.5 kg) bag of potatoes.
One Christmas, many years ago, my mother in law famously made lefse from 100 lbs (40.5 kg) of potatoes!
The two- day process involves:
Radically Retired 