 Miss Havisham’s Victorian Tea (Chapter Eight in Pavlova in a Hat Box, Sweet Memories & Desserts) was originally posted on my old blog on May 24, 2012
Why did I name my tea catering business, Miss Havisham’s Victorian Tea Caterers? It was a capricious and lighthearted decision, based on my simple delight in the novel, Great Expectations. Although there is not much to like about Miss Havisham, I feel her pain, for she is the epitome of every woman who has been bruised and embittered by romantic love. Nearly every woman has stopped her clock at least once in her life. When love disappears, she leaves dirty dishes in the sink, refuses to bathe, and sleeps in her clothes. These are not women who were merely stood up for a dinner date, but women who have felt Shakespeare’s passionate words, “I love you more than words can wield the matter, Dearer than eyesight, space and liberty.” Poor Miss Havisham! Perhaps if she had married her Compeyson, in ten years she might have made her clocks go faster, for women in Victorian times, even wealthy ones, were not always content. How many of us have dark mourning rooms locked inside our lives? Perhaps not from lost love, nor anything too severe, but even a tiny closet full of cobwebbed tangles of unresolved memories can create intermittent paroxysms, getting us in touch with our Miss Havisham feminine sides. Certainly there are unreasonable bursts of “You go, girl!” to a friend who is contemplating revenge on someone who did her wrong. Misery loves company and we hardly recognize Miss Havisham when she visits for tea in her tattered wedding dress, enticing us to pamper and powder our wounds and sharpen our claws. How easy it is to love a chat with Miss Havisham, for surely she was wronged, and surely there have been injustices wrought against us. The illustrious Charles Dickens writes of Miss Havisham, “But that, in shutting out the light of day, she had shut out infinitely more; that, in seclusion, she had secluded herself from a thousand natural healing influences; that, her mind, brooding solitary, had grown diseased, as all minds do and must and will that reverse the appointed order of their Maker.” We know that in the novel, the vengeful Miss Havisham finds redemption for her soul when she begs for Pip to forgive her, although her physical end is imminent. I like happy endings and although she perishes in a fire, the large room of her heart has been cleansed and the curtains have been opened to allow for the light of love in. It is no news that we, too, will die in the end, but let not the casket of bitterness and hurt also be interred with us. I once had a tea business called Miss Havisham’s Victorian Teas and my purpose was to create a sensory experience with celebratory food, flowers, china, poetry, and music. With an eclectic arrangement of china cups and plates, antique hats, and special recipes, I created teas for every occasion, i.e. birthday, anniversary, and wedding. Sometimes, a tea was created for women to come together for no reason at all, except to affirm and encourage one another, and to clean out the forgotten rooms in our lives. I wanted my tea business to possess the spirit of Miss Havisham’s redemption, which was the forgiveness that was birthed within her before her death. I will entice you with one recipe from my tea business that is best served with the laughter and honesty of women friends. It’s Spring and time to air the closed rooms of our hearts to make room for new love, wildness, and healing. Clarissa Pinkola Estes writes in Women Who Run With the Wolves, “If there is to be change, we are it. We carry La Que Sabe, the One Who Knows. If there is to be inner change, individual women must do it. If there is to be world change, we women have our own way of helping to achieve it. Wild Woman whispers the words and the ways to us, and we follow.” Gather together in beauty and share this luscious, and perhaps magical, recipe in the forgiving spirit of Miss Havisham. Lemon Lavender Madeleines (recipe on page 34 of Pavlova in a Hat Box, Sweet Memories & Desserts) There is a special madeleine pan sold at cookware stores. Generously brush with melted butter and a dusting of flour to prevent sticking; or spray thoroughly with non-stick cooking spray and dust with flour. Ingredients: 2 large eggs 2/3 cup granulated sugar 2 tsp. lemon juice (fresh squeezed, if possible) zest of one lemon a pinch of salt 10 Tbs. unsalted organic butter, melted and cooled slightly 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 ¼ tsp. crushed fresh unsprayed lavender flowers; additional unsprayed lavender flowers or other flowers for decorating Confectioner’s sugar for dusting Directions: 1. Beat eggs and 2/3 cup sugar until pale and thickened; add lemon juice, peel, melted butter, and salt. 2. Crush lavender flowers between fingers and add to batter; add flour and with a spatula fold into the egg mixture until blended. Do not over mix and let stand fifteen minutes. 3. Pour batter into pans, filling ¾ full. Bake, rotating halfway through, until edges are crisp and golden, 8 minutes. Let madeleines cool slightly in pans on wire racks. Invert, unmold, and place on a china plate and decorate with sprigs of lavender or unsprayed flowers. Dust lightly with Confectioner’s sugar. If made with a gentle touch, these cakes turn out delicately and have a light custardy taste.
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Norah’s Dancing Dream Scones (Chapter Thirteen in Pavlova in a Hat Box, Sweet Memories & Desserts) was previously posted on my old blog on Dec. 6, 2010.
John B. Keane, the prolific Irish writer of plays and novels (now deceased), wrote a short story, ‘Spreading Joy and Jam at Christmas,’ that is from his collection titled, ‘Irish Stories For Christmas.’ One man tells the story of how he and his friend traveled to Mayo at Christmastime to visit old schoolmates. His friend is jovial, lighthearted, and he is a master at role playing. They arrive in the village, Claremorris, and stop at a hostelry. Outside the door, they see a large van full of jam. There are pots of raspberry, strawberry, plum, gooseberry, marmalade, and mixed fruit. The teller of the tale writes, “It’s a terror,” said my friend, “to see so much jam exposed to the naked eye and half the world starving.” As the two men sit at the bar enjoying some whiskey, a young girl walks in and mistakes the friend for the driver of the jam van. She asks if she can have a pot of jam and the friend replies that if she has the means of transporting, she could load a few crates of the jam…”but not to overdo it. Ye don’t want to make pigs of yeerselves entirely.” The men leave the pub and cheerfully walk through town encountering others who are in need of words of wisdom. Later, a cart passes them carrying two women beaming with happiness because they have two cases of jam. The young girl waves at the men ecstatically and the friend says, “Were we to depart life now we would surely see heaven for the happiness we spread this day.” I’ve just started my cookie baking marathon, including a new scone recipe made with marmalade that I brought to a recent Christmas ceili. Each year, I bake up to fifteen varieties of cookies and give them as gifts. The manager at a local farm store where I buy my greenery said to me last week, “It’s really Christmas when Cynthia brings us a plate of cookies.” I have a reputation of par excellence for my pastries, and I am not modest about saying so. Each year, I buy good quality ingredients that include eggs from the local farm, as well as a lot of organic items. There’s no doubt that I spend a lot of money to make these superior cookies that I bless with my hands as I mix, roll, and form. I don’t budget well, I spend too much, and I feel a bit like the character in John B. Keane’s short story. In a way, I am role playing, too; intoxicated with the intensity of this sensory season and giddy with giving melt-in-your mouth cookies. Last year, after baking a batch of macadamia nut cookies with dried pineapple, I noticed that the band aid on my finger was missing. Oh my! So, I only gave this particular cookie to a few friends, and gave the instructions to cut up in small pieces before eating. I am very careful when I bake – apron on, cats cast out of the kitchen, hair pulled back, finger nails are clipped and no open sores! As I remember the comical incident of last year, I seriously hope this year my cookies can in some small way bandage seasonal stress, memory of loss, and the ache we carry for those who do not have bread, let alone cookies. Norah in my novel, The Irish Dresser, A Story of Hope during The Great Hunger, is sincere, but foolish, when she steals the Captain’s food and attempts to feed the sick and dying in the hold of the ship, ‘The Star.’ There are Robin Hoods in all of us, our idealism and sense of justice fueling light-hearted, clandestine, and even illegal activity. I’m not advocating stealing, but I am challenging myself and others to give magic away – in cookies, donations, volunteerism, and activism. And if we have to be full of blarney like the character in John B. Keane’s story sometimes, so be it. We should all live with this mindset: “Were we to depart life now we would surely see heaven for the happiness we spread this day.” Norah’s Dancing Scones Ingredients: 2 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (wee bit more for handling) ¼ cup brown sugar, or less (jam makes it sweet enough) 2 tsp. baking powder ½ tsp. baking soda ½ tsp. salt 1 stick cold unsalted butter ½ cup buttermilk 2 medium eggs 1 tsp. vanilla zest of an orange a few drops of orange juice ¾ to 1 cup cup marmalade melted butter sanding sugar (coarse sugar) Directions: 1) Set oven at 375 degrees; line parchment paper on cookie trays; mix dry ingredients into a large bowl; cut butter into small pieces and add to dry mixture; mix with pastry cutter (I couldn’t bake without this gadget) or use fingers to break up into small pea-sized pieces; butter should remain solid. 2) In a small bowl, whisk together buttermilk, eggs, orange zest and drops thoroughly; add to dry mixture and barely combine. 3) On a well-floured surface, divide dough into two pieces (if sticky, add a little flour, but not too much); don’t knead, but gently pat into two disks about ¾ inch thick and 7 inches in diameter (give and take). 4) Spread marmalade or jam over one disk (leave ½ inch around edge of disc) and top with other disc, pinching sides and pressing down; brush with melted butter and sprinkle with sugar; use a sharp knife to slice circle into 8 triangular wedges on baking sheet, leaving some space between them; chill until firm (20 min.). 5) Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, rotating sheets halfway; scones should be golden and it’s fine to have some bubbling marmalade peeking out. Stirring up Stories in the Kitchen (Chapter Two in Pavlova in a Hat Box, Sweet Memories & Desserts). Was posted on my old WordPress blog on Oct. 3, 2010.
Cloister. I like to say the word aloud and dream about a sanctuary in autumn; a simple white walled room with an ample window for sunbeams to pour in so thick, dust particles form into tiny fairies that slide down the beams. The only sound I hear is birdsong, wind song, or ocean song. A writer requires this kind of room to be shut away in, sheltered, and quieted; a place to withdraw from the world to create new worlds with words and storytelling. “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction,” Virginia Woolf said. Yes, please! I can imagine a sequestered luminous and peaceful writing room, but in reality, I have never had one. I can also picture myself in one of the private writing rooms at the New York City Public Library, or perhaps squirreled away in a cozy cottage at The McDowell Colony where one fortunate artist described the person delivering his picnic lunch basket as the Angel Gabriel. Oh, the freedom to create in uninterrupted time! I yearn for unadorned and easy days to meander deep down into the abyss of the past and dig out story relics to restore to some original shine. I pour over Poets & Writers’ magazine’s conferences and residencies section and dream of a studio in a rustic medieval village in Italy, or being on an idyllic Greek Island only accessible by boat. I especially like the Brittany writer’s rental with the setting in a 19th century stone house with five fireplaces and only a few miles from ocean beaches. I dream of these places, but I have never had my own special writing room. I have always written stories in the sundry places available to me. The office, bedroom, parlor, living room, dining room, kitchen, public libraries, bookstores, diners, cafes, bed and breakfast inns, beaches, cars, buses, trains, airplanes, the back porch, friends’ homes, hotels, and even in the woods. I know there must be more rooms where I have taken my yellow legal pad or lap top and then put one word in front of the other. Sometimes choosing a room to write in reminds me of putting one feeble step in front of the other, like after I had major surgery and was forced to walk the next day. Alas, I have learned to write without the one unique charming room of my own. I’ve learned to capture my undisciplined mind that flits and flies around ideas and worries, and cage it temporarily so I can hear it sing a story to me. When words aren’t hunted, honed, and placed on a page, I can write in my mind and heart. Ideas and outlines for stories form when I am showering, walking, cleaning, exercising, baking, and working on a painting in art class. I also write when I dance, the music infusing my brain with visions of grandeur. It happened that the entire premise for my first children’s book came to me while I was Irish set dancing in a pub. Writing for me can’t be condensed into one small room with a shot of light, but if it comes that way, like a much needed vacation to the tropics, I take it and splurge. Mostly, my writing experience isn’t like the narcissus bulbs forced to grow in January. I do require time for the right light for the right story, whether in my head, home, or a public place. But a favorite room to write in is when I am in my kitchen and my hands are stirring, kneading, and molding. I call this writing love play writing because it can be a prelude to a story, acted out in measuring cups and spoons. It is the preferred room for when I write without my laptop or legal pad. The act of baking is full of unique and often simple ingredients with the potential for something delectable to be shared with others. Likewise, fiction writing is full of characters coming together in plot and suspense, culminating into a story that satisfies the hunger of readers. Story ideas, chapter scenes, plots, and endings often form and rise in my head while I mix, shape, and bake scones, breads, and pies. I can create magic in the kitchen because in no time at all, I whip up a pie, a cake, or cookies. And while doing so, I’m spicing up my writing already mixed up on a page or two, or even concocting ideas for a new story. Unlike baking however, I am unable to whisk up good writing quickly, no matter how many ideas or epiphanies come my way in the kitchen or elsewhere. Writing requires plenty of time for characters and scenes to baste, simmer, cook, boil, bake, and sometimes even chill, before it can be partaken of in a digestible, flavorsome, and entertaining story. But when I go to my kitchen to bake, I can create and complete something tangible and scrumptious to share with others in an hour or so. There is immediate gratification and success in baking, unlike writing done in many rooms day after day, week after week, and year after year (and sometimes without success). Becoming a seasoned and palatable writer is a slow cooker process. The outcome, if all the ingredients work, can be delicious. Yes, Virginia Woolf, I suppose I do have a favorite room of my own to create fiction in. It is in my kitchen where I face the empty pages of the stories in my head and fill the empty tins, pans, and cookie sheets with scrumptious possibility. Chocolate Cream Cheese Cupcakes Ingredients: Batter: 3 cups flour 1 tsp. salt ¾ cup cocoa 2 tsp. baking soda 1 cup sugar 1 tsp. cinnamon 2 cup water ¾ cup oil 2 Tbs. vinegar 2 tsp. vanilla Filling: 1 large egg ¼ cup sugar ¼ tsp. salt 8 oz. cream cheese ½ tsp. vanilla 1 ½ cups chocolate chips (more or less, according to your liking) Directions: Mix dry ingredients in a large bowl; mix water, oil, vinegar, and vanilla; add to dry ingredients and beat with an electric mixer until smooth; fill cupcake holders 1/2 full with batter and add a heaping Tbs. of filling in center. Bake 350 degrees for approximately 40 to 45 minutes. Let cool on rack and then wrap them up in whimsical cupcake wrappers found in specialty stores (I order special cupcake wrappers online from Fancy Flours). No frosting is needed, for this would make the cupcake too sweet, but sprinkle with confectionary sugar and add sprigs of preferred washed, no spray, flowers. Arrange the cupcakes on a cake platter and drape with a few pieces of ribbon. Sometimes I double the recipe and arrange them fancifully on three cake plates set atop one another.  Christmas Cookies and Irish Ceili Cakes - December/January 2022/2024
For nearly thirty years, right after Thanksgiving, my cookie baking marathon (and cake planning) begins with enthusiasm and joyful frenzy. I go through my Christmas cookie and cake files and pick out some of my tried and true recipes and make a list. And then I sit in a Barnes & Noble bookstore and flip through magazines to find new recipes to add to the list. I also go to Pinterest and get inspired by photos and recipes. I have tattered, brown, and stained vintage cookbooks that I wander through. And I revisit my old Martha Stewart Living magazine issues for December and pull out a few recipes. November is the beginning of hunting season in the northeast of the United States and it is also hunting season for the seasoned confectioner. I’m determined to find new cynsational cookie and cake recipes to impress and dazzle my friends, neighbors, and Irish dancers who attend our New Year’s Day Ceili (Irish music, dancing, and storytelling event) we host each year. The world may seem to be going to hell in a handbasket, but when I sit down to write my Christmas cookie and cake list, full of thanksgiving, I am suddenly aware that no matter how dismal life can get, creating sweetness with wholesome ingredients for others is joyful magic. It isn’t a burden, except when I want to make too many recipes in a day. I am the Celtic Cookie and Cake Queen conducting kitchen alchemy that transforms simple ingredients into delightful deliciousness. It is the one time of the year when I feel as Robert Browning, who wrote, “God’s in his Heaven/All’s right with the world.” This line is from Songs From Pippa Passes and is about a young, innocent girl wandering through town singing kindness and virtue to the people she encounters (or passes). There are various interpretations, and for me, I become Pippa at Christmastime creating and gifting others with my baked delectables. And when it is over, the spirit of this holiday sprinkles over the year, like fairy dust and confectionary dusting, as I continue to bake for any occasion, and even for no occasion. The following recipes are ones I have used the past few years and are favorites of mine: Jam Gems is a buttery cookie recipe that is one of my tried and true recipes and one of the seventeen varieties I made this year for the holidays. This recipe, of course, can be made any time of the year and is a luscious way to use up the half empty jam jars in your fridge. Jam Gems Ingredients ¼ cup granulated sugar Pinch of salt 1 ½ cups (3 sticks) unsalted butter, softened (I use organic and oftentimes substitute Miyoko’s alternative butter for half of the butter amount) 2 eggs (one for dough and one for egg wash) 4 tsp. vanilla extract 3 ¾ cups all-purpose flour ¼ tsp. cardamom and zest of an orange or lemon (optional, depending on the jam flavor used) ½ cup turbinado (coarse sugar for sanding) Jam (try marmalade, raspberry, strawberry, peace, and black current) Directions: Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Rose Pistachio Ceili Cake with Raspberries is luscious and a reminder that spring will come again. The recipe was adapted from The Kitchen McCabe web site. It was a perfect cake to serve during tea time at our Irish ceili. Rose Pistachio Ceili Cake with Raspberries Ingredients Cake: 3 1/4 cups cake flour 2 cups unsalted pistachios, finely ground in a food processor 1 Tbs. baking powder 1 tsp. baking soda 1 tsp. salt 1 cup (two sticks) organic unsalted butter, room temperature (or Miyoko’s alternative butter or half and half) 1 ¼ cup granulated sugar 1 ½ Tbs. vanilla extract 1 large egg or two small 1 cup milk ½ cup plain yogurt 3 egg whites ½ tsp. cream of tartar Frosting: 1 cup (two sticks) organic unsalted butter, room temperature (or Miyoko’s alternative butter or half and half) 1 Tbs. vanilla extract ½ cup organic raspberries 3 tsp. Organic Veda 100% Pure Rose Petal Powder (Amazon) 5 cups plus powdered sugar Lots of fresh organic raspberries to pile on top of cake Organic Veda 100% Pure Rose Petals (Amazon) Directions: Cake
Dark chocolate Ceili Cake with Chocolate Fig Ganache is another cake adapted from The Kitchen McCabe web site. Visit this site and be inspired by the photography and recipes. I decided on this cake because everyone loves chocolate and I loved the way it was decorated on The Kitchen McCabe site. I, of course, made alterations and made it my own. Dark Chocolate Ceili Cake with Chocolate Fig Ganache Ingredients Cake: 1 ¾ cup all-purpose flour 1 cup grandulated sugar 2 tsp. baking soda 1 tsp. salt ¾ cup plus 4 Tbs. Dutch Process Cocoa Powder (I use Droste) 1 cup strong coffee, cooled ¾ cup plain yogurt 3 medium eggs ½ cup avocado or sunflower oil ¼ cup milk 3 tsp. vanilla extract Chocolate Fig Ganache: 16 oz. chocolate chips (dark preferred) 1 cup whipping cream (I used the alternative Silk Heavy Shipping Cream – dairy free) ¼ cup fig jam Chocolate Swiss Meringue Buttercream: 3 egg whites ½ cup granulated sugar 1 cup unsalted organic butter, cut into cubes 4 oz. dark chocolate chips melted and cooled slightly Toppings: washed lemon grass leaves (florist); stems wrapped in plastic wrap for extra care washed eucalyptus leaves w/seeds on branches (florist); stems wrapped in plastic wrap for extra care fresh figs, cut in half blackberries pomegranate arils (seeds) thin golden ribbon for bottom Directions: Cake:
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