A Chocolate Blast From the Past

My husbands' birthday is on February 29^th so of course he gets teased on the years his birthday is not technically on the calendar.  Nonetheless, I asked him what kind of cake he wanted for his celebration this year.  He thought maybe a German chocolate cake.  For some strange reason, my mind swirled back to a memory of a chocolate cake I used to make when I was younger.  Although not a German chocolate cake, I was already set on the plan for his birthday confection. 

When I say younger, I mean much younger.  Before kids…before marriage…before college…before high school.  At the ripe old age of 10, I used to enjoy playing with my friend LuAnne, who was two years older than me.  We used to take turns going to each other’s house.  One of the activities we enjoyed was baking.  We started this tradition at her house using Betty Crocker’s New Boys and Girls Cookbook.  We had so much fun picking out what we wanted to make, and under her mother’s supervision, we learned to bake from scratch.

We learned to measure and pour, beat and stir, blend and frost.  We would double the recipe so we each got to bring home whatever we made.  My mother told me that when I came home from my first ‘baking play date’, she asked me what mix I used.  I responded by asking her what a mix was.  She said, ‘You know, what box did you pour the ingredients from?’  When I told her we didn’t use a box but used flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla, and some other stuff, she was shocked.  She said her 10-year old shamed her into starting to bake from scratch again.  And might I add that in hindsight I am so glad that happened because my mother is one of the best bakers I know.

When I pulled out my old cookbook a few weeks ago, the cover was held together with scotch tape and the pages were falling out.  I hadn’t used it or even thought about it for years.  I really don’t know what made me think of resurrecting it now, but it was one of my favorites back in the day.  

As I carefully turned the pages, little brown splatters dotted page 97, while a few greasy smudges stated their presence at the top of the page.  These were signs of a well-liked recipe.  I had fun reminiscing through the book of other favorites we used to make.  By the sign of the pages, I would have to say that we liked the chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies, and brownies quite a bit. 

Cocoa Fudge Cake recipe (on the right)

I followed the recipe to a tee.  As it was cooking in the oven, I suddenly had a horrible thought.  Although I liked this cake when I was 10 years old, I hadn’t made it in decades.  What if what I remembered as delicious at the age of 10 was not so delicious now?  A kid’s taste buds and an adult’s are very different.  To make matters worse, I invited a few couples over after we went out to dinner to celebrate Chris’ birthday with the cake.

I announced my disclaimer before slicing up the cake that night.  Everyone enjoyed looking at the tattered book as I explained the story.  Thankfully the cake was a hit.  I guess Betty Crocker withstood the ages. 

Some fun cakes we used to dream about replicating.

A Stimulating Day

Yesterday I spent the day in NYC visiting two renowned art shows with a stop at the historic Chelsea Market.  With a multitude of stimuli throughout the day, I marveled at the creativity of the artists but also questioned whether freedom of art gives you permission to be politically incorrect. 

This wonderful day trip was sponsored by The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum in Ridgefield and was attended by RMAC students as well as students from Ridgefield and Danbury High Schools.  The trip was offered for free thanks to a grant from The Aldrich.

We started the morning at The Armory Show, which is a leading international contemporary and modern art fair.  Celebrating its 100^th anniversary, the show takes place in three locations:  Manhattan, Chicago, and Boston. The Armory Show can be credited for the introduction of Van Gough, Gaugin, Cezanne, Picasso, Matisse, and Duchamp to the USA.  

In New York, the exhibition is located on Piers 92 and 94 on the West Side. Many of the world's leading galleries are there to present their artists.  

Student docents who accompanied us facilitated deeper discussions of select pieces as we ambled through the aisles trying to see as much as we could.  We came across a plethora of cardboard Brillo boxes, Andy Warhol style. The plaque invited us to take a box for free.  People started taking them from the stack, only to find their awkwardness walking around a gallery of art to be a conundrum.  Before long, one by one, keys and pens were taken out as people started flattening the boxes in order to carry them under their arms.  

An interesting thought.  I did not favor the idea of bothering with it throughout my day so I did not take one.  I also had no idea what I would do with it at home and my husband might likely mistake it as recyclable cardboard and put it at the curb the following Thursday anyway.  So on we went.

Andy Warhol original

Original Picasso drawing

 There were so many mediums used in the pieces that really brought to mind how creative artists could be.  One artist created two tower-like sculptures using cameras.  One included a material that looked like ice dripping from it while the other sported a hat and purse.  One member of our group joked that they could have gotten their materials from cameras left behind at the show. 

Another interesting piece was a sculpture on a wall, in and of itself was nothing exceptional.  It was when you realized that the shadow created from this sculpture reflected that of a person that you really appreciated the complexity of the piece.  I have no idea how one would figure that out.  Trial and error?  Math?

After a few hours on the two piers, the bus brought us down to Chelsea Market for lunch. What I loved most about this old factory was the atmosphere.  The National Biscuit Company originally purchased it in the 1890s.  They baked many items, including Saltines and Oreos.  

A National Biscuit Company painting is still on the brick wall, along with an Oreo one (below).

Today the site is a plethora of newer ovens offering many items for visitors. In all, there are about three dozen eateries and specialty shops.  As you wind your way down the central hall, you pass old elevators, original signage on brick walls, and a jumble of nooks and crannies. 

One of many specialty eateries included this  bakery.

Although mostly eateries, there were a few places to do some funky shopping.

Our last stop was the Volta Fair in SoHo, which is another platform for emerging, mid-career, and established contemporary artists.  Much smaller than the Armory Show, an hour was enough time to see most of this exhibit.  One of the sculptures that impressed me most was a bust.  I carefully examined it to try to determine if the artist used marble.  After walking around the back of it, I was shocked to see a row of magazines.  Pressed together and carefully carved magazines resulted in a fabulous bust.  That was impressive. 

The back shows the rows of magazines pressed together, the material for the sculpture.

There were of course modern art pieces that we all should admit to saying to ourselves, ‘I could have done that if I had thought of it first.’  For example, nails in a coconut on the floor...  I know I could have done that, but it never would have dawned on me.  Other pieces just made me smile.

Pipes on a floor....

...so why not colorful hoses on a wall?      

I don't know what this piece was titled, but I call it Donut Head.

We were careful not to step on the cat, playing on the floor.  

One artist there made me question freedom in art.  He had many pieces in the show all with the same theme.  Two examples were ‘207 niggas on linen’ and ‘A bunch of niggas in the dark', which you can see below.  Is it okay to use the ‘n’ word if you call it art? 

Then there were pieces that made you think about environmental awareness, like this map of the USA with all our trash, aptly titled Beautiful Disaster.

We thought this was an interactive piece, until we realized the girl was a sculpture.  It was a little creepy, as was the caveman with his arms sawed on the floor.

I think the good tired feeling I had at the end of the day was a combination of hours of walking and also the on-going stimulus on my eyes and brain.  Art is supposed to get you thinking and it certainly did for me.  It always wakes up my artistic juices and makes me pledge to myself to set aside more time to do the creative things I enjoy doing.  The thought and question I will leave you with is this.  Should artists be politically incorrect under the guise of freedom of art?  If yes, does it benefit anyone other than themselves?

Have You Seen My Brain?

Have you seen my brain?  I used to know where it was at all times, tucked neatly between my hair and my chin.  It was reliable and always there for me.  So what, may I ask, have I done to scare it away?

I used to be the most reliable person I knew.  I was punctual and even a few minutes early to any appointment.  I always wrote things down and never missed meeting or appointments.  I was so reliable that sometimes I drove myself nuts.  However, I can’t say this has been the case in the last 12 months.

Lest you think middle age has set in and is what has affected my brain lately, I would like to discuss three possible theories for the missing brain.  First of all, I had surgery one year ago.  Major surgery.  Total knee replacement surgery.  While I don’t think my wonderful surgeon took a detour to my brain while sawing into my knee, I do believe that the anesthesia could have long lasting effects.  This long?  I don’t know, but it is part of my first theory.  Even though I have been off the pain meds associated with the surgery for a long long time; who knows what the effects of that is too? 

The next part of Theory Number One is that I was home recovering for three months, backed up to a two month summer vacation.  Never in my life have I not worked for five months.  Although it was not a ‘vacation’, I did settle into a sort of semi-retirement mode.  Some days my main goal was to shower and do my exercises.  Other more ambitious days may have included a trip to the food store.  All of a sudden, time wasn’t important.  I didn’t even really need to wear my watch.  (Gasp!)  When I did have an appointment to go to, it was stressful to get there on time.  I came to resent the clock.

But the main part of Theory Number One was that I only had one responsibility, not 21.  My accountability was to my knee and myself.  That became my top priority.  The responsibilities of my job, running a non-profit organization, and keeping up with household chores were delegated to others.  I think that once you slow down, it is hard to gear back up. That is why many times when I am on a roll cleaning, grading papers, or running around town doing errands, I do not stop until I am finished, because if I slow down, I go into relaxation mode and then it is all downhill from there.

If you are not buying into Theory Number One as the demise of my lost brain, let me offer Theory Number Two.  My Smartphone.  You may remember a past blog while I wrestled with whether to get one or not; I know my friend Jack remembers the blog well.  Shortly after my surgery, well within the year that my brain has been missing, I decided to retire my flip phone and join the rest of the world with my use of a Smartphone.  With so much time on my hands, I even went to not one, but two classes on how to use it at the local Verizon store in the mall. 

One of the cool features of the Smartphone was its calendar.  How awesome was it to book my next physical therapy appointment before I left the current session, without having to go home and look at a calendar?  I had all the information at my fingertips.  I quickly became addicted and checked my Smartphone calendar each morning to see what was in store for me that day.  The problem arose when my husband insisted I also write things on the paper calendar.  This was always our treated as our Family Bible for events.  If it wasn’t written down, then it wasn’t happening...

The problem was when I returned to real life after five months, I floundered between trying to keep up with using both methods.  Some things got recorded on one place and not the other.  Depending which I consulted in the morning, that could be a problem..

There is one other theory, which is my addiction to Spider Solitaire.  It is a mindless, relaxing game.  I now believe its addiction could possibly eat away at your brain cells.  Hence, Theory Number Three.   Just one more game…just one more game that I win…ok this really will be my last game…  How many of you will admit to being addicted to this or another similar game?  My brain could be spending hours a week doing more productive things, but there may be some validity to Theory Number Three.

I miss having my brain with me in full force 24/7.  I am not sure what has contributed to its AWOL status.  But when you are out and about this week, if you see it in Starbucks, the mall, or hiking in the woods, can you give me a call on my Smartphone?