Made With Love

I know what the sign in my kitchen says... but I think MS escaped out of prision and came for a visit this weekend. Either that or the nut who does live here was busy baking and cooking up a storm this weekend. I mean, who??? makes homemade oreos?

They were a hit, I must say, earning me the title of The Best Mom In The World, and, after a migrain headache like none I have ever had EVER [the POUNDING on the top of the head with a metal mallet hammer would have felt BETTER than the relentless POUNDING POUNDING inside my head] the honor of Best Mom felt like spring rain.

The scent of the cardamom in the bullar filled the house on Saturday again. I had to bake them. Couldn't resist. The recipe on the back of the box of Pearl sugar (bought in Dallas at the utopia of food stores, HEB Central Market, oh my, it is the heaven of grocery shopping) is so easy and I don't even have to convert the yeast measurements.

After the bullar I got a little adventurous and made chocolate espresso truffles. Yes, from scratch. Had to use up the whipping cream before it expired, right? The truffles were supposed to be a part of a First Advent party I wanted to have. Wanted to invite a couple of our friends over for beef stew, truffles, homemade oreos, bullar and Glögg.... but it didn't really work out. Instead we skipped the party, had a little stew (a new recipe, and techinique, that produced an especially tasty stew), and J and I talked about our goals and dreams and the direction we want to take in life. While we were talking and discussing and all that I sadly forgot about the carrot bread loaf in the oven and it baked to a nice hard crusty brick suitable for self defense in a dark alley. So, there it is, in the end the truth is out: Martha Stewart really does not live here. It was me all along, imperfect, yet persistent, in my pursuit of making with love things for my family to eat.

After the boys went to bed, I peeled a California navel orange and ate it while watching that show, Desperate Housewives. There was this one scene in tonights episode that stood out in front of all scenes in just about any tv show I have ever seen. It was the scene when the three women are sitting on the grass as the character Lynette cried it out, and they were talking about that it was hard to be a "good mom" sometimes. Imagine. Talking about it. It was wonderful.

Now it is time to head to bed, and thank goodness, no migraine.