The Snozberries Taste Like Snozberries

Last summer, while enormously pregnant and unemployed, I started an amateur baking business called Sweets! By Sarah and sold my treats at the Musquodoboit Harbour Farmer's Market. Business boomed (relatively speaking) so I continued to pump out cupcakes, cookies, and cinnamon buns until my aching back and swollen feet made me call it quits.

The same summer market is starting up again in a couple weeks, so I've decided to dust off my old recipe book and give the business another go. I've acquired a new business partner, Sadie McBakerson, who will either be the key or the absolute downfall of my venture.





So what does this mean for my loyal readers out there? Why, more of my butter-filled, sugar-packed (but totally calorie-free) recipes, of course!

I slightly tweaked the following cupcake recipe from The Busty Baker, which in turn, has been adapted from Julie Hassen's 125 Best Cupcake Recipes. I stumbled upon this recipe and decided to try it out, hoping to incorporate it into my baking repertoire. I like to think I invented the frosting recipe myself, although I'm sure the same recipe can be found somewhere else on the internet.

The Razzle Dazzles - Chocolate Raspberry Cupcakes With Raspberry Buttercream Frosting

Cupcake Ingredients:
1 1/2 cup all purpose flour
3/4 cup cocoa 
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 1/4 cup sugar
1 egg
1/2 cup veggie oil
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup frozen raspberries (or fresh, but I'm cheap!)
1/4 cup raspberry jam
1 tsp vanilla
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar

Instructions:
I usually perform the "dump and mash" technique when baking, but since I'm trying to make money off of these bad boys, I thought I'd be a good girl and stick to the recipe.
Mix the first 4 ingredients in a bowl. Beat the last 8 ingredients together in another bowl (I use a handheld electric mixer). Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture and beat until smooth. Fill large cupcake liners 3/4 full, then bake for 25 minutes at 350º.


Frosting Ingredients:
1/2 cup frozen raspberries
1/2 cup butter
1 tsp vanilla
3 1/2 cups icing sugar

Instructions:
Beat the first 3 ingredients together until creamy. Gradually add icing sugar and beat at a low speed until smooth.


Last but not least, ice the cupcakes as you desire. I chose the "pink, swirly turd" look. I also added a schtickle of cream cheese icing and a fresh raspberry on top.

They sure don't taste like turds! The cupcakes are chocolaty, moist, and packed with raspberry flavor. This recipe's a keeper, and will be a fine addition to my market menu.

Just to be sure, I better sample a couple more...

We Salute You, Sleeping Baby

Long weekends are never long enough. "Pleeeeaaasee call in sick tomorrow" I begged my husband last night, the smell of BBQ and suntan lotion still fresh on my skin. Victoria Day Tuesday should be a statutory holiday too. Bah humbug.

Let us recap the weekend, shall we?

The weather was sublime. Blue skies, a light breeze, and the temperature hovering around 20-25º. We barbequed, had a constant stream of visitors, and played with Sadie and our pup on the lawn 'til sundown every night.

We even squeezed in a family hike at The Bluff Trail. The trek is rugged enough to give mom and pop a workout (but safe enough to lug around your 5 month old) and TOTALLY worth the effort for the breathtaking views. Sadie had fun too, especially when her butt exploded and we had to change her on a rock. That kid's a trooper.

I also did some urban exploring Monday morning with the Sadester while Robin did some house/yard work (score!). Sadie loves meandering with mommy in her baby carrier. She vibrates with excitement from all the new colors and faces. We were walking around Halifax's Citadel Hill and just as Sadie was (finally) falling asleep in her stroller...KABOOM! Off goes a canon. Then 20 more. It appeared we had made it just in time for the Victoria Day 21-gun salute. A HUGE oversight by yours truly.

Now it's Tuesday. The bbq is covered, Robin's back to work, and Sadie and I are both still in our jammies at 4pm. Oh well. I suppose Canada Day is only 6 weeks away.

Wheat and Wood and Sheep, Oh My!

I have a confession to make. My husband and I are hardcore Catanimals. Not to be confused with Furries, people that dress up like stuffed animals (and find it arousing? No comprendo), Catanimals are people that are addicted to the somewhat nerdy yet TOTALLY AWESOME board game, Settlers Of Catan.

You see, we don't get out much. Pre-Sadie, we socialized with the masses, drank beers in bars, and were hungover and useless the next morning. This lifestyle is difficult to maintain when you have a baby who wakes up at 5am and requires your undivided (and conscious) attention.

We recruited my younger brother and his lovely lady friend to join our games, so we now have twice-weekly Catanathons. It's also my brother's birthday today, so Isaac, this post is for you!

I should mention that these photos were taken a few months ago, before Sadie entered her EVERYTHING MUST GO IN MY MOUTH phase. Now we only start our games after her bedtime, which is coincidentally earlier on Catan nights .

For those of you that aren't familiar with Settlers of Catan, you're missing out. You need to buy this game and play it immediately! For those of you that don't like board games? You will like board games once you play Catan.

Catan Prospers!

Rage Against The Computing Machine/Happy Belated Mom's Day

I wrote a fantastic Mother's Day post last night, filled with heart-felt words and wit. I contently pressed "Publish" and POOF, it vanished into cyberspace. So here I am, rewriting it now. It won't be as good as my first attempt, as technology has left me bitter and uncreative.

Attempt # 2 :

Like Valentine's Day, I've always believed Mother's Day was a holiday created by card shops and florists. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate my mother to infinity and beyond, but does a box of Russell Stovers once a year cut it? There would be no human race without the ol' broads, after all.

I consider myself pretty low-maintenance, so I told my husband not to bother with any forced, cliche gifts. However, the scallywag surprised me Sunday morning with a Calla Lily plant and a fine bottle of Belgian beer wrapped up like champagne. He knows me too well, as I prefer beer over champagne any day. He also remembered that the Calla Lily was our wedding flower (though I did not. FAIL), but now I have to keep it alive. Ugh.


The Sadester and I then spent the afternoon with my mother AND my grandmother. That's 4 generations, folks. Sadie's great grandmother is lovely, but I'll be dammed if she can't find something to complain about. What can I say? She's 93 and still tickin'. She deserves to have her overly salted soup served at exactly 170º f. We all ate lunch together, Sadie included. (That was a hoot, me trying to hide my big, lactating boobies from a nearby table of 100 year old men). As I sat there, I was overwhelmed with admiration for these 2 women. My grandmother has lovingly and selflessly raised my mother, who in turn, has lovingly and selflessly raised me. Now I'm trying my best to raise my daughter the same way.

So buy your wife some jewellery, and send your dear ma some flowers. They truly deserve a holiday all for themselves. Just don't forget to love them the other 364 days too.

These Cookies Have True Grit

Brace yourself. I'm about to share with you the best recipe a sugar-craving mother can have. It's simple, modifiable, healthy (oatmeal=healthy in my books!), and has kept me happily fueled over the course of my infant-rearing days thus far.

Seriously. It's THAT good.

Behold! The Cowboy Cookie. 

Ingredients:
3 c large flake oatmeal
2 c flour
1 c brown sugar
1 c white sugar
*1/2 c pecans
*1/2 c coconut
*1/2 c cranberries
*1 c white chocolate chips
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
2 eggs
1 c butter

* These dry ingredients can be substituted/omitted. I don't like nuts in my cookies, so I don't add them. You can use chocolate or caramel chips instead of white chocolate chips, raisins instead of cranberries, or none at all! I also LOVE coconut so I add a whole cup.

Instructions:
Some people will tell you to mix the dry ingredients first, then cream the butter and sugar together, yadda, yadda, yadda. I, on the other hand, dump everything into a bowl in no particular order and mush it together with my hands. Use your hands. The squishyness feels oh so nice. If you like BIG cookies like moi, make baseball-sized dough balls, squish them down with the palm of your hand, and bake them at 375 until they're done.

Splendid. That's some good eatin' right there!

Dance Dance Revolution

I never used to like dancing. In fact, I detested it. High School dances were utter torture as I forced myself to gyrate to the "hits" of Crazy Town and Shaggy. In University, the only time you'd see me on the dance floor is if I was three sheets to the wind off Colt 45's. Heck, I almost died of embarrassment dancing with my husband on our wedding day!

Then Sadie came along, and Sarah got her groove back.

I used to be more self conscious, inhibited by my awkwardness, and afraid of how others perceived me. That changed after my husband watched a watermelon-sized baby come out of me. After that, I simply stopped giving a shit.

More importantly, my daughter loves it when I dance. We have dance parties nightly, my husband included, blasting old-school hip hop, Pistachio Mike, and shakin' what our mama's gave us. You know that quote "Dance as if no one is watching you..."? Well I dance as if my baby is watching me. It makes her laugh, it makes me laugh, and at the end of a long day of cooking, cleaning, and shitty diapers, a good laugh is just what I need.

So as the great poet Young MC once said, "Don't just stand there, bust a move"! 

Hungry Hungry Hippo

Before our Sadester was born, I was set on my decision to breastfeed. It's free, easy, and said to be healthiest for your baby. My daughter is almost 5 months old now and I'm still going strong. Free and healthy it may be. But easy? Not exactly.

All mother's experiences are different, just as all babies are different. While pregnant, I naively envisioned myself holding our daughter in my arms, her happily nursing while looking up at me lovingly, ending with her drifting off to sleep, drunk on milk. Pah! I had the receiving blanket pulled over my eyes on that one.

First of all, Sadie has ants in her pants too! She inherited my twitchiness. My bad. I wouldn't change a thing about her, and love her more for it, but boy oh boy is she a wiggly one. Sometimes it feels like I'm feeding a whole litter of piglets.

While nursing, Sadie's limbs just keep on moving, as if she's conducting an orchestra with both hands and feet. She plays my boobies like a pair bongo drums (and she's shockingly good!). Her new favorite maneuver is placing her foot underneath my armpit, kicking as hard as she can, and launching herself off my lap. She also has a death grip on my bra strap at all times, so if in the event she DOES fall asleep while feeding, she'll know the second I try to place her in her crib. She's a smart cookie. A little too smart.

Our little monkey is curious too. (Mmmm milk, milk, milk, DOG, milk milk, milk, DADDY, milk, milk, TV, milk, milk, milk, DOG). She'll turn her head around like a baby owl at any noise or movement, making it hard for her to focus at the task at hand.

Then there's me. I figured I'd be a natural milk machine. A regular Holstein, if you will. If she suckles, it will come? Nope. I have to work at making sure I produce enough. I pump on the side to stimulate production and have tried every lactogenic food I've heard of. I thought brewers yeast was the answer! Turns out it just gave Sadie (and myself) a bad case of gas. Sorry Robin...

Some women choose to breastfeed, some women don't, and some women simply can't. I respect them all! But at the end of the day, I'm happy I'm able to breastfeed, albeit a bit of a gong show, and I know Sadie loves me for my efforts.

Ok. Time to go feed my Hungry Hungry Hippo.

Birthdays, Babies, Brewskies, And Breastpumps

So my husband is originally from Ontario, myself, a born and raised Bluenoser. We lived in Toronto for 5 years or so, but when I found out I was pregnant, I WANTED MY MOMMY and we moved back to my hometown of Halifax.

My husband's parents came to visit us this past weekend and what a weekend it was. Unlike the typical wife/in-law relationship, I genuinely adore them both. I also love hosting visitors, as it allows me to be a tourist in my own city (just as having a baby allows me to be a tourist in my own life? Ah so...). Our Sadester was delightfully cooperative and let us drag her through a smorgasbord of family dinners, hikes, and activities over the course of the weekend.

We did, however, leave her home for an evening (big shout out to you, Nana Jan!) so my husband's parents could treat us to his birthday dinner chez The Bicycle Thief (voted best new restaurant in The Coast). We sipped on amazing wine, feasted on beautiful Italian food, and chatted about parenthood. Fantastico! The dinner was followed by an after-drink with some friends at the upstairs bar of The Henry House. It was the cat's pajamas. No seriously, I ordered a drink called the Cat's Pajamas. A sweet, citrusy, gin cocktail served in a china teacup. Lately my drink of choice has been water, served in a stream from the kitchen tap directly into my mouth, so this was a step up for me. We then had an after, after drink at Bearly's House Of Blues where I showed my in-laws how us East Coasters dance. 3am rolled around and they were dancing circles around me!

Now I don't want members of La Leche League to come beat down my door and kick me in the baby-maker, so I'll note that I had fridge full of pre-pumped, uncontaminated breast milk to feed my darling Sadie. We don't want her sipping on White Russians just yet.

But alas, our wonderful weekend is over and we're back to our usual routine. Sadie may not know it just yet, but she has 2 sets of wonderful grandparents who are madly in love with her. She also has a set of parents who think she's pretty alright too.