Cuteness Runs in the Family

Spiky ear hair may also run in the family, but it's a little too early to tell.

Confessions of a Cheapskate

[My husband informs me that I talk too openly about things like poo, pee, vomit, and other personal matters. So, to avoid shocking anybody who has come here to read about cake, triathlon training, or the cutest dog in the universe, I am hereby issuing a TMI warning. If you're easily grossed out by bodily functions, you might want to skip this post. The rest of you sickos, read on.]

I recently posted about my new coffee obsession, and the fact that I am a much nicer person in the morning after I've had a cup or, let's be honest, two. I used to scoff at all the caffeine junkies lining up outside Starbucks for their jolt of java, but I'm sad to say that I'm now one of those addicts. Though Starbucks (yuck!) isn't what did me in. No, I blame Hines Public Market Coffee for initiating the downward spiral. I was always satisfied with green tea until an innocuous looking bag of Hines beans and a French press proved just how delicious coffee can be.

Besides making me perky, coffee drinking has another side effect: it gets things moving, if you know what I mean. And normally I view this as a good thing. It's really quite satisfying to get the daily constitutional over and done with and go on about my day. The one problem is timing. I'm never really quite sure just when nature will call, whether it will be two sips into the first cup or halfway through the second. Because I work from home, this inconsistency isn't normally a problem, except for days like today when I have an early morning meeting on the calendar.

I think you probably know where I'm going with this by now, so I'll just cut to the chase and tell you that during this morning's teleconference I was faced with an extraordinarily urgent need to...drop the kids off at the pool. And not to be crass, but the kids couldn't wait. And I have to say that while you're trying to lower yourself gently so that the sound of the bum hitting the seat remains inaudible to your colleagues is not the ideal time to discover that your cordless telephone lacks, of all things, a mute button.

Oh I tried to do my business quietly, I tried to cover the phone's microphone with my finger, I tried coughing and pencil tapping to disguise any errant sounds. But about halfway through the...evacuation...one of the people on the line paused mid-sentence to say, "Is my audio okay for you guys? Cause I'm using this new headset and I seem to be picking up a lot of...outside noises." Now I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure I know what he meant. And I'm pretty sure that if he heard "outside noises," everybody else on the telecon heard them too. Despite my desperate attempt at control. Despite my finger across the microphone.

If there is a moral to this story, it must be LISTEN TO YOUR HUSBAND. Because even though you want to cheap out on a basic phone, even if you don't think you will need any of those fancy, over-priced features, your husband is right when he says that someday you might. Someday your coffee might be a little stronger than usual. Someday you might need to release the hounds with a quickness. And, who knows, someday you might just think that little mute button is worth every last penny.

Cocktails, Dancing, What Have You

Well, I can't sleep. It's after midnight and James and Disco are snoring away next to me, but here I am awake. Perhaps this explains my desperate need for coffee in the mornings? Anyway, since I'm up, I thought I would tell you about my recent trip to Philadelphia to visit my university roommates. Really I went to visit Nilika, but by a stroke of luck, Lucey was in town too. So it was a double whammy. Looking through my photos from the trip, I now realize that there aren't very many. I guess we were just too busy having fun, so I will have to fill in the gaps for you.

Where to begin? How about with Obama? Philly loves him, apparently.


Nilika threw a housewarming party, and Lucey and I got caught in a downpour on the way there.



Neel's roommates were fab. We did lots of wandering down the historic, tree-lined streets in Nil's neighborhood.


Much of this wandering took place after long nights of cocktails, dancing, what have you. Judgements may have been impaired.



Despite the lack of photographic evidence, it was an excellent trip. Nilika, Neel, and the Fitzwater family were incredible hosts and showed us a great time. Now they'll all just have to come to Victoria so we can return the favor!

One Hell of a Revelation

After a late night of cake-making, I woke up at the crack of dawn this morning to prepare for an early meeting. Took Disco out to do her business, checked email, watched some Tour de France...you know, the usual. But upon stumbling into the kitchen, I found something that made me want to head straight back to bed, curl into a fetal position under the covers, and wish for the resilience of a cockroach.

Plague? Check.
Pestilence? Check.
Not a speck of coffee in the whole damn house? Checkity check.

Let us pray.

Happy, Happy Birthday Granny!

May there be many, many more!!

White Rabbit Goes Camping

Sarah's boyfriend took her camping on Saltspring Island for her birthday, and he wanted to surprise her with a camping-themed cake. Who did he call? White Rabbit Cakery, of course! We created a forest cake for Sarah, with birds in the trees, a bear scratching his back, and a googly eyed snake winding around a tree trunk. And lots of mysterious eyes peering out from within the forest. Oh, and of course there was a red pup tent -- who didn't grow up camping in one of those? -- with a pair of feet sticking out. We considered putting two pairs of feet, but not knowing Sarah and her boyfriend very well, we didn't want to get the poor chap into trouble! Inside was our signature chocolate cake with raspberry buttercream filling. We hope the cake survived its journey to Saltspring and was enjoyed by birthday girl Sarah and all her camping buddies.

Chef James Presents: Cherry Lime Pie

Did I mention he cooks now???  Oh, baby!!!

Sparks

About a week ago, James and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary with a big meal, a bottle of wine, and a late show.  With the notable exception of our bulging bellies, it felt like any other night out together, and we both agreed that the third anniversary calls for less pomp than the second, and only a fraction of the first.  It's a good thing, don't you think, that we're not counting the days with tick marks on the wall, not treating every month survived together as a remarkable milestone?  But just because we've settled in for the long haul doesn't mean we're not enjoying ourselves.  Sure, our life together has become comfortable.  Sure, we've broken each other in.  But there is still laughter.  There are still sparks.  And in the words of our favorite psycho cheerleader, changing the routine now would be, like, total murder-suicide.  Seriously.

Adventures in Cooking

So I've never been able to cook. I mean I can make toast but that is about the limits of my culinary skill. Kristi has always been the one to pick up the slack in our relationship and provide me with healthy tasty food. Problem is when she is not around I stare into the fridge look at all the food and have no idea what to do with any of it. I've decided to take a stand and learn how to cook for myself.

There are these things called cookbooks that are surprisingly easy to use! Who knew? In the past week I've been making a few soups and last night I cooked dinner for Kristi and I. I saw some amazing looking turnips at the farmers market and heard them calling my name. Yes, you heard me right. I said turnips! Turnips alone however wouldn't cut it so I also made a lentil soup to go along with it. I present to you Glazed Turnips and Mediterranean Lentil soup.

Glazed Turnips (so good!). From Modern Vegetarian Kitchen by Peter Burley

Mediterranean Lentil Soup. From Chez Panisse Vegetables by Alice Waters

Sexy on the Inside

Abi's mom sent us more pictures of the heavy metal cake, complete with a sexy inside shot. Enjoy!

To Market

Today was our third Saturday at the Moss Street Market. It was also the first sunny day in MONTHS, and the first day that we sold out long before the market was over. Coincidence? I think not! We also had a very special order to fill today -- an Iron Maiden birthday cake for our friend Abi -- which was fun but very challenging, and it's left Cara and I both thoroughly exhausted. But before I tuck myself in for the night, here are some long overdue pictures from the past few weeks.

Cupcakes in boxes:

Cupcakes out of boxes:

Cara made us this awesome menu chalkboard sandwich board sign thingie:

A recent special order, a birthday cake for a talented writer:

And finally, a bird's eye view of today's Iron Maiden birthday cake, mind the wicked flames:

Disco says it's bedtime. Sweet, cakey dreams, everybody!

Vegetables Never Tasted So Good

White Rabbit Cakery, formerly known as the Sugar Sisters, will be at the Moss Street Market every Saturday in May (except May 17) from 10:00 am - 2:00 pm. If you live in Victoria and don't know where the Moss Street Market is, shame on you -- it's at the corner of Moss and Fairfield. Cara and I will be there peddling our fabulous (vegan) cupcakes, mini cakes, and cookies. Advance orders are welcome, and can be emailed to info@whiterabbitcakery.com.

We'd like to keep this going all summer, but we have to sell enough cakes to keep our spot. So hop on over to the market, ignore all the icky vegetable stands, and come see us for a serious sugar high.

Don't Try This At Home

Today I managed to ruin both a dinner plate and a tea towel with a single stick of unattended incense. And just as I was starting to mentally prepare myself for the fire safety lecture I was certain I would be subjected to, I stepped outside to see that James had left a bag of garbage next to the front door. That's right folks, the man forgot to take the garbage down to the dumpster and left it on our doorstep for all the world to smell. From where I sit this looks like a tie game, and I am thinking I am probably going to get away with tea towel arson without so much as a dirty look. Amen and hallelujah, and who says all the fun stops after the honeymoon?

Finger-Licking Good

Me: Are you here for the giant raccoon?

Animal Control Officer: No. I'm here for the cougar.

Me: Cougar?!?

Animal Control Officer: Yes. We've had a report of a cougar on the other side of your building.

Me: Yikes!

Animal Control Officer: I suggest you get inside.

Me: Okay.

Animal Control Officer: And take that cougar-snack of a dog with you.

What a Way to Go

8:00 am Wake up early to bake pie.

10:00 am Put pie in oven without a baking sheet underneath.

10:34 am Pie overflows.

12:30 pm Remove ruined pie and set oven to Self Clean.

2:45 pm Die from inhalation of noxious oven cleaning fumes.

2:47 pm Eaten by rabid, pie loving terrier.

Candlelit Dinner Optional

A few days ago, my husband announced that he has already picked out my birthday present and that it's a really good one. Don't be shocked and amazed by the fact that my birthday isn't until July. That James is a real catch, and he gives a good present. And since I know him to be both romantic and thoughtful (occasionally even at the same time), I immediately thought, YES!, this wonderful man is buying me a new dishwasher, one that won't spew soapy water all over the floor every third power wash cycle.

But then I thought, wait a second, James can do better than that. If this man is a true romantic, and I know that he is, then instead of a buying me a new dishwasher, he must have signed me up for appliance repair classes. Because then when my dishwasher breaks I can say to myself, sorry ma'am, can't find nothin' wrong with it, write myself a check for 500 bucks, and then mosey on down to the local Home Depot to buy myself something shiny and stainless. Teach a man to fish, right honey?

Snack Attack

I just finished a recipe for the latest issue of the Victoria Vegan. This time, instead of baking for people, I baked blueberry dog biscuits for Disco. She liked them. A lot. And it sure took a lot of them to get her to sit still for this picture.

P.S. About Portland: it was fun and it rained. The end.

P.P.S. Those dog biscuits aren't half bad!

Grouchy

The morning started out fine, except that I woke up at 5:30 and couldn't go back to sleep. Excited, I guess, about today's roadtrip. So I got up early and made coffee and got nicely caffeinated while reading the news (and by news I mean my favorite blogs). And then I packed all of my perfectly folded (to avoid wrinkles) clothes very precisely into my suitcase, a pre-trip ritual that I typically savor, a sort of obsessive-compulsive delicacy if you will. And then I did what I normally do when there are vegetables in the fridge that aren't likely to be eaten before they're past their prime: I put a huge pot of water on the stove and chucked them all in to simmer for a few hours while I got ready for work. If you're never made your own vegetable broth, you don't know what you're missing. It's so easy, so cheap, and makes use of those veggies that are on the bubble...too wilted to munch on, but still too perky to toss. So far, so good, I thought. It was shaping up to be an excellent day.

But then I couldn't fit all the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and had to HAND WASH some --horror of horrors -- which made my hands all dry and scratchy, and I think I can feel a hangnail starting to form. And then I tripped a breaker while blow drying my hair and couldn't for the life of me get the little breaker switch to stay flipped in the proper direction. And then, when I was throwing out the cooked veggies after straining off the broth, I missed the garbage can and dumped the entire pot onto my left foot, covering one of my new shoes in a mountain of sloppy vegetable mush. To their credit, the shoes cleaned up nicely, and the only reminder of the incident is the fact that one of my shoes now smells...well,vegetable infused, for lack of a better term.

Despite what you may think, I didn't come here just to gripe. I also came to ask you to pray for James today, if you do that sort of thing. Because the poor guy has to sit in a car with his grouchy, scratchy, vegetable infused wife all the way to Oregon today, and he's going to need all the help he can get. So send him patient vibes and keep him in your thoughts. Oh, and if you have thoughts to spare, I know a certain hangnail that could use a little attention...

100% Chance of Crappy

James and I are headed to Portland tomorrow for the latest installment of Since We Love Our New Car So Much, Let's See How Many Roadtrips We Can Cram Into A Single Summer. We've never been there before, but our sources -- and by sources I mean Google -- suggest that we're really going to like it. We're staying at an uber-hip hotel and have plans to visit Powell's books and the Portland vegan mini-mall (yes, it's true!), among other things. Anyway, I just logged on to check the weather forecast before I commence The Packing, and this is what we're in for:

Oh, great. Something new and different.

Meet the Sugar Sisters

I could not be happier to announce that my dear friend Cara and I are teaming up to take my -- scratch that, OUR -- cake business to a whole new level. Cara is a crazy redhead, an amazing artist, and she loves cake. In my book, those three qualities make her an excellent business partner. Oh yeah, and we have a lot of fun together. As evidence of this outrageous fun, see Exhibit A: Cara and I hanging out at the Mt. Washington pub last weekend after a long day of colliding with each other on snowboards. Nevermind the handbag-sized bottle of Fireball Whiskey, which of course was empty like that when we found it. We're good kids, honest!



Cara and I made our first cake together a few weeks ago, and by all accounts it was a great success. The cake was a birthday surprise for my triathlon buddy Bob, who was turning the big 5-5 and whose sweet wife Carolyn commissioned us to make a triathlon themed cake. Carolyn was an ideal first client because she was very open to our ideas and didn't request too many specific details. This attitude is extremely helpful when you're trying something for the first time and are bound to make last minute changes. She is also my friend, so I knew she wouldn't murder me in my sleep if the cake didn't turn out as planned. Luckily, both Bob and Carolyn were very pleased with the results and no bakers were harmed in the making of this particular cake. See it for yourself below. Oh, and in case you're wondering, it was hazelnut cake filled with chocolate-hazelnut mousse, and everything on the cake is edible and vegan. Except the orange ribbon. Which might actually be vegan, but please, don't eat ribbon.

Since Cara and I had so much fun making Bob's triathlon cake, we decided that we would try to make a real business out of our cakes. Don't worry, Mom and Dad, we're not quitting our day jobs. But we are trying to spread the word that the Sugar Sisters are the girls to call when you need a creative cake for just about any occasion. Why Sugar Sisters, you ask? Well, we tried to solicit business names from all of our friends, but Flour Power didn't quite fit us, and neither did Four Boobs and a Cake. (Thanks anyway, Frank!) So we're calling ourselves the Sugar Sisters until we think of something more clever. Or until we become so wildly popular that it would be impossible for us to change our name even if we wanted to. Like Hootie and the Blowfish, for example.

Little Baby's All Growed Up

Just as I get done convincing myself that single gray hair was actually a natural highlight and the lines forming on my forehead are just shadows caused by sub-optimal bathroom lighting, a neighbor calls to ask if James and I will be her kids' "emergency contact people." Which means that if her kids are home alone and there is, say, a natural disaster or a scary stranger lurking about or a swallowed Monopoly piece they will, in her words, "run to you for help." At first I was flattered. I thought, hey, this lady trusts me with her kids! She thinks I'm a responsible adult! That can't be bad, right? But then I thought back to my own childhood and my own emergency contact person. Three words: FRUMPY. OLD. LADY. Grownupness isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Dear dishwasher...

Next time you're feeling disgruntled, please just let me know instead of dramatically spewing soapy water all over the kitchen floor. I'm not sure if something's gotten your hoses in a kink or if you're simply having a bad day, but if this behavior continues, I will have no choice but to force you into early retirement and hire a shiny new replacement.

In other news, at the risk of jinxing myself, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I think the long, dark, rainy winter might actually be on its way out. For the first time in months, I drove my Vespa to work today under a clear blue sky wearing only a light jacket with no puffy insulating layers underneath. Is it possible that spring really is springing?? Forget knocking on wood...I'm throwing myself on top of my particle board desk. Immediately.

Road Tripping

Last weekend, James and I and our friends Jeremy and Virginia all piled into our brand new car (yes, the Element finally arrived!!) and headed up to Mt. Washington for a fun-filled weekend of snow sports. It was our first test of what we have determined to be the best road trip car ever, and boy were we right! We stuffed the Element to the gills with snowboards, skis, snowshoes, clothes, games, snacks, beer, and more beer. And there was still plenty of room for four psuedo-adults. And when we tracked snow and mud into every corner of the car, no one batted an eye, because we knew clean-up would be as easy as rinsing our all-season floor mats and tossing them back into the E. We are most definitely in love. Swoon!!!

The weekend was beautiful -- sun, powder, all night dance party (you'll have to ask Jer about that one!) -- and it went off without a hitch, except maybe for some mysterious food poisoning that reared its ugly head after we got home on Sunday night. But no matter. It was worth it. My only regret (aside from eating questionable sushi) is that we forgot to charge our camera battery before leaving home, so I only had enough power to snap one measly photo of the whole weekend. So, without further ado, I present James driving the Element as we headed out of town and up the island to the mountain.


Jer and Vir took more pictures, and if they ever post them on Facebook (hint, hint), I will link to them so you can see just how much fun we had all weekend. Until then, you'll have to use your imagination. Oh, and if you're looking for a place to stay near Mt. Washington, we highly recommend the Forbidden Plateau B&B in Courtenay, BC. Besides preparing incredible homecooked breakfasts, the owners Kim and Lorne were wonderful hosts and made us feel more like friends in their home than paying guests. They hooked us up with snowshoes, gave us all manner of directions, and even accomodated our special dietary preferences on very short notice. And when you stay with them, make sure you ask to feed the chickens and gather the freshly laid eggs. They won't even make fun of you for being a city slicker...at least not until after you check out!