by Diana
As a child I remember no dessert could ever beat a bowl of fresh strawberries. For me they were always a treat as in my house they only bought them a few times a year when we visited la Colonia Tovar, a town located an hour or so from Caracas, founded by a group of German immigrants in the 19th century and well-known for its temperate crops. It still amuses me that my very German sister-in-law, referred to the little Deutsch -Venezuelan village as a sort of Disneyland when we excitedly took her and her family there - but that's material for another story.
It was complete by chance that my baby's first ever solid food was a strawberry, as it was given to him by a friend of mine during a lunch party - and here I am 5 months later with a boy that seems to be totally obsessed with the fruit. I am glad we can get them for him more than a few times a year as otherwise I am sure he'll be on hunger strike! Our daily walk has a mandatory stop every other day by the supermarket to get yet another package for him to devour. I am convinced they are the reason why he smiles on his sleep.
This cake was an attempt to treat him with another version of his edible red hearts and I naively thought he would be delighted but, to my surprise - probably not yours- he picked the decoration and my husband and I had to settle with the cake itself - at least it had some cardamom there for us. Hope you enjoy a complete slice!
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| © The Teaspoon |
by Diana
Ahead of the summery days forecasted for next week I am thinking of recipes that could help us pretend we are on a beach holiday as far as we possibly can from our concrete East London jungle. Since I don't have an ice cream machine I just convinced myself that gelato and 25C+ simply don't go well together so granita is the best semi-frozen and yet Italian dessert. Isn't my defensive way of thinking fantastically problem solving? I may be an ostrich but a cooled one refreshed by the tropical flavours of my homemade reality denial. I am taking my family with me on our little adventure so needless to say it's also a baby approved recipe! Enjoy!
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| © The Teaspoon |
by Diana
Whenever I feel a bit restless, cooking with yeast seems to be the answer to my agitated thought process. I am not a patient sort of individual and like to embrace the immediacy of the moment and to hold the tangibility of results in the things I do. Yeast did not help me survive the reality of life though but the art of ceramics did and so did my art therapy training. Waiting does not offer tranquility as it comes with what can be sometimes terrifying uncertainty. Not-knowing has never felt so deeply as it feels now, neither has felt so collectively. As I don't have a studio space anymore, I had to transfer the art of waiting to the kitchen so whenever I want to slow down and manage anxiety I opt to bake. And it's somehow a relief to know that I am not the only one baking coping strategies. There is a reason why the flour shelve in the supermarket remains empty - and is not because I am stockpiling!
With the above in mind, I hope you enjoy the slow process of making these mini pizzas, being conscious of the fact that if eating with a 10 month old baby you may spend even more time on the dinner table than on the making and certainly with twice the amount of uncertainty. Keep safe and sane!
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| © The Teaspoon |
