Chocolate-Salted-Caramel-Cream-Cheese Brownie Frosting

Okay guys.  The greatest thing just happened.  This thing is Chocolate-Salted-Caramel-Cream-Cheese Brownie Frosting, and shall henceforth be dubbed the "All You Could Ever Want in a Frosting."  So shall it be.

Who's coming over to die of happiness with me?

Problem #1

After a particularly incredible football-watching afternoon, in an attempt to continue the merriment, naturally, I thought, "Chocolate!"  Problem #1: The only chocolate in this house is in the form of unroasted cocoa beans or unsweetened cocoa powder.  Solution: Brownies.  The recipe I used wasn't to die for, and I certainly won't be saving it, but it served its purpose.  Measure, stir, pour, and bake those puppies. 

Problem #2
The recipe called for a frosting, and considering they looked like they'd come out on the cakey side (I happen to believe that a brownie cannot claim to be unless it is fudgy and chewy).  Frosting is a subject on which I excel.  A great frosting can amplify any confection it is placed on, and the possibilities are unending.  This particular recipe looked a bit lackluster.  Solution: Let the creative flow.

Problem #3
I had a tiny bit of left over salted caramel that had been in my refrigerator since the July 4 cupcakes filled with salted caramel and I wanted my container back (one does not simply dispose of homemade caramel). Solution:

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All You Could Ever Want in a [Brownie] Frosting
  2 Tbsp unsalted butter, softened
  1/4 tsp vanilla
  2 tsp cocoa powder
  <1 tsp water or milk, if needed for consistency
  1 1/2 Tbsp salted caramel sauce (or other comparable recipe)
  4 heaping Tbsp confectioners sugar
  2 oz cream cheese, softened

Using paddle attachment in mixer, beat butter and vanilla until smooth; add cocoa powder.  Once mixed through, add half confectioners sugar.  While mixer is on, drizzle caramel in until mixed thoroughly.  Add remaining sugar to reach desired sweetness, and then beat in cream cheese.  Spread on warm brownies.  Cool slightly, and then enjoy your sugar coma.*

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*Note: If you try this and make adjustments, I'd love to know how it turned out!

Why I Love Photography

I can pinpoint exactly when I first fell in love with photography.  It took exactly two events to turn my indifference into total obsession. Event number one happened in the late fall of 2008 during a First Friday with some friends in Lancaster.  We were meandering through several of the coffee shops and art galleries in the city when we came to one that hosted a wall filled with black and white photos featuring a young girl holding a red umbrella.  Immediately, your eyes were drawn to the only colored portion of the picture, but with each framed photograph, once you were able to move your eyes to all that surrounded it, the real story was told.

The second event was a visit to the Smithsonian with a friend several months later.  We were walking through an exhibit of photo winners displayed in the Museum of Natural History and BAM! I was hooked.  These were National Geographic-quality pictures but printed on enormous canvases.  Those brief moments in time that will never again take place in exactly the same way told a story.  The flawless editing drew you into the artist's world and allowed the subjects to jump out at you.

I have realized that what I love most about photography is that it reveals reality.  I can appreciate a painter's artistic ability to recreate or a sculptor's craftiness to get 3-D proportions perfectly, but in my mind, nothing can surpass the beauty of what already exists.  In a perpetually moving world, one excellent photograph can allow you to revel in the artistry of one tiny moment in time.

As I've attempted to hone my still incredibly amateurish skills of photographing, this passion has been fueled by the focus that capturing these moments requires.  Really looking at a subject- studying it from various angles, analyzing how the light reflects off of and around it, seeing the depth of perspective of everything around it- has given me a greater appreciation for the world around me than I ever had before.  Editing encompasses this on an even deeper level as I work to bring out certain colors or bring something in or out of focus.

I have learned to really look around.  Beauty is literally everywhere, from angles formed in the distant horizon to the veins of a leaf floating to the ground by your face.  Stopping to actually focus on it, whether in the moment or with a photograph's help, is so worth the time.

Beyond the Duct Tape Fix

Enter: the new thing in life right now.  In June, my husband and I joined the Marching Ravens because that's what music teachers-who-are-too-old-for-DCI-and-too-nerdy-not-to-give-up-the-once-held-passion-of-performing-in-front-of-massive-crowds-of-unsuspecting-fans-who-thought-they-were-going-to-watch-a-football-game do.  Every game day, we arrive at the practice facility several hours before kick-off to practice the pregame and halftime show.  During this rehearsal, a brief incident (probably 15 seconds, max) took place that I've been thinking about on and off ever since.

A little background info, first: At the end of the pregame show, we form RAVENS on the field and launch into the fight song.  I stand at the top of the R which lines up with the rest of the other letters in line across the field.  The move immediately prior requires that I march in a backward diagonal leading into this line.  For anyone who has marched before, you know that keeping in the form trumps getting to your exact, assigned blade of grass on the field.  So if you're in a line or form that is moving too slowly, you sacrifice your exact destination for maintaining the shape.

So we were moving into this shape, but the line was about a yard closer to the sideline than it is supposed to be.  On the last step, several people in the middle (where everything is based off of) realized this and took a huge step backward on the last count.  Because I (and others close to me) had been in line but couldn't react to this compensation, we wound up being about a step closer to the sideline and slightly out of formation.  Now, this is practice.  It's the time to fix things and make final adjustments.  As soon as the song concluded, another band member stormed over to me and yelled, "You HAVE GOT to stay in LINE.  You are WAY too far forward!"  I expressed that I had been in line but couldn't react in time when the center of the line took a big step back on the last count of the move.  She swore, spun around, and went back to her spot.  

This woman has never spoken a word to me before, she isn't a section leader, and felt that, regardless of reason, me being a step out of formation was justification enough to walk 15 yards to loudly confront me about it.  I don't mind that she said something to me about it, but in mulling it over a bit more, I started seeing similar patterns. What is it that allows us to feel yelling at someone is an acceptable thing to do?

What is yelling anyway?  I'm not talking about calling the dog from outside; I mean angrily expressing one's point of view toward another.  It assumes fault based on personal perspective and conveys, "You screwed up, you inconvenienced me, you should feel badly, and now go fix it!"  Yelling dehumanizes the other person by devaluing them... and usually over something simple that really isn't that big of a deal.  I'm certainly not advocating for a coddling culture, nor am I suggesting that we habitually overlook things that should be corrected.

But what if we considered briefly, before opening our mouths, that the recipient of our words (and, perhaps more importantly, the tone of our words) is someone who has purpose and put thought behind their actions?  We would see the person as more important than the actions they do.  We might discover that the action we thought needed to be corrected is just a byproduct of incorrect thinking.  If we discovered this, we could more quickly get to the root of the problem rather than a duct-tape fix on the surface.  

...Though duct-tape is pretty amazing.

Curling Cake (Or, "How a Bag of Marshmallows Almost Did Me In")

A bag of marshmallows almost got the best of me yesterday.  Almost.  What I CAN tell you is that this bag of marshmallows did get the worst of me.

Last week, my husband asked me to make a cake for his curling league's snack.  This particular league happens to be a men's league, and what that means to the baker providing food is that any cake-serving chart can be thrown out of the window.  Eeking twenty servings out of a 6" cake ain't gonna cut it for forty men who have just been curling for 2 1/2 hours.  So 11x17" it was.  

I made a White Almond Texas Sheet Cake, whipped up some strawberry mango cream cheese filling to put between the two layers, and crumb coated the whole caboodle with vanilla-almond buttercream.  Lovely.  

And then came the fondant.  Now.  Making and working with fondant is typically one of my favorite parts of decorating because it is essentially edible playdough. (If you care to hear about my mild obsession with playdough, please invite yourself over sometime for a cup of tea and playdough snail-making tutorial).  Ohhhh catharsis... At any rate, every other time I've made fondant from marshmallows, I have used Wegman's brand (which I may or may not be equally or more passionate about than playdough) of marshmallows.  Since we now live 20 minutes from one and I couldn't justify driving that far for something I could get ahold of 2 minutes down the road, Giant it was.  

Eventually, my fondant was made and it was time to cover the cake:

  Step 1- cover fondant mat with thin film of shortening

  Step 2- roll fondant in ball and roll out to correct size

  Step 3- add more powdered sugar so rolling pin doesn't keep sticking

  Step 4- using four hands, place mat over cake and start to peel fondant off

  Step 5- plead with fondant to come off of mat like it always does; remind it that this is not a difficult task

  Step 6- urgently beg tearing fondant to correct its wayward path

  Step 7- angrily pull mat off and throw pathetic-looking fondant shreds onto counter

  Step 8- grab fistful of sugar and throw it on fondant; begin shoving it into sticky areas of dough

  Step 9- turn down husband's offers to go pick up pre-made fondant "just in case it doesn't work out"... and for a glass of wine

  Step 10- try re-rolling out on fondant mat mat on top of more sugar

  Step 11- thrust fondant mat to side of counter, giving puppy who hasn't yet experienced sugar something to get excited about as a layer coats the kitchen floor 

  Step 12- toss out Wilton method of fondant cake covering out the window and opt for British fondant method, despite not having a large enough rolling pin

  Step 13- cover cake successfully; high-five husband and "woop!" excitedly

So, what have we learned from this?  Always go to Wegman's.  

Tour Time!

Happy December!  As previously promised, I finally am getting around to posting some pictures from our newly acquired home.  We still have a considerable amount of painting (and have waited for most decorations until that point happens), and so most of the rooms aren't finished, but this will give you an idea of our happy little home at present.  Would you like to join me for a tour?

So the first picture you saw was the front of the house, followed by views of our street.  Aside from the occasional party next door, dogs next to us and across the street, and police-helicopters overhead every so often, it is pretty quiet.  It's amazing that we're so closed to the city, but distanced enough that we forget how close we actually are.

When you walk in the front door, we have a living room area that is home to our books and music, as well as a coat closet (not shown).  To the left is the master bedroom...

And then the guest bedroom...

And on the opposite side of the hall is a bathroom still in need of one more coat of paint and different tile (at some point before we die).

At the opposite end of the hall is another living room area that opens up into the kitchen, but we are still waiting on our couch to arrive.  Outside the doors pictured is the backyard, which I'll get to in a few minutes.

Of the many many many many things I love about this house, the kitchen has got to be one of my favorite parts.  Not shown is the laundry "room" (just a big closet) on the opposite side of the kitchen.

Between the entrance and kitchen is the dining room, also still in need of another coat of paint.  Now let's head downstairs to my husband's favorite part of the house...

The basement is in an L shape.  Part of it we plan to section off to an additional bedroom at some point in the future, but for now it's our music studio/office area.

The doors lead into the utility work room:

The other door you may have seen leads to a bathroom which we painted in "Billiard Green."  I'd say it's true to its name, eh?:

And finally, our backyard has a lovely garden, shed, patio, and some beautiful trees which I adore.  We're so blessed.

So now that you've seen it, it's time to hop in the car and come visit.  The structure itself has no value unless people are in it-- consider yourself invited.  :-)

The Old and the New

Monday marked the closing of our first home.  The theme of the "old" versus the "new" has been coming to mind a lot with the start of changes.  As transitions to our new space commence, it is apparent that the closing of one chapter begins a new one.  It is truly exciting, but I don't want to be so hurried to start the next one that I forget to acknowledge the beauty of the current.

Yesterday, as soon as I walked out of the door of our apartment, it became apparent that the two large trees next to the building suddenly realized that it was fall and they had some catching up to do:

The blanketed foliage was a reminder of the end of one season of our lives in this place.  As I think back over our two years here, this apartment represents so much of God's kindness to us.  Most of our married life so far has been here.  We've been so blessed with excellent landlords.  Despite the enormous crickets (one of my two least favorite products of nature, next to centipedes) and mosquitoes that come with it, it has been wonderful to have woods and a little creek to look at right outside of our apartment... a scene fairly uncommon so close to Baltimore.  We've been right down the road from a Wegmans in one direction and one of my best friends in the other. (Don't judge.  Wegmans is a big deal). 

Reflecting on God's kindness over the past two and a half years makes me excited to see what He has in store for us in our next location.  There will be new people to interact with and new lessons to learn.  When I started hauling things over to the house earlier this week, I brought these back from the garden:

Despite the autumn season, the yard was teeming with life... so much so that I couldn't help bringing some back with me.  As my present surrounding is cluttered with evidences of transition this reminder has been a breath of fresh air every time I walk in to the kitchen.  

What They Don't Teach You in Camp-Directing School

Okay, so let's be real. I didn't go to Camp Directing school. I am fairly positive that I made its existence up entirely. BUT, if I had, here are a few things that I am pretty darn certain they wouldn't teach you:

1. How to react when you first see two five-year olds kissing. Repeatedly. On the neck and mouth.
2. How to keep your cool when an adult loses track of a child during a field trip. You know... Hypothetically.
3. How to logically explain to a six-year old that it isn't a great idea to keep his balloon animal that he has become incredibly attached to in his prior three minutes of possession because another child wiped his blood on it after getting a minor cut on playground equipment.
4. That a game involving hitting a balloon back and forth may result in injury, and while attending to aforementioned child's injury, trash-talking would take place and result in four children crying.
5. That following said game with balloon stomping game solves everyone's woes and ailments. Apparently, when it comes to balloon games, violence is preferable.
6. That Elmer's Glue-All does not work on styrofoam.
7. Root beer floats and "punch bugs" are foreign concepts to persons under the age of ten. I think I died a little.
8. Angry Birds can actually be turned into a real-person game. It is apparently a great after-lunch pastime.
9. No child willingly eats mustard.
10. Kids understand and absorb than you think and are totally capable of way more than most adults give them credit for.

Three weeks down, one week to go...

Happy Towel Day!

In case you need a bit of explanation as to the origins of Towel Day:

Here's how we celebrated... in the nerdiest thing we've ever done:

Final Project

Here is the promised, finished cake!  Since I starting the decorating classes, this was the warmest, most humid the temperature has been and I am discovering the irritating melting effect it has on the icing.  The buttercream I used to ice the cake was nearly melting as I was working with it.  Couple that with a dark chocolate cake already prone to crumbing and... yeah.... but overall, I was fairly pleased with how it turned out.

Teaser

Once again, I find that it has been days since I've been able to sit down to update, but life has been incredibly full and I refuse to apologize for that.  But a great big "howdy!" to the blogging world once more.

Tonight is my final class on Cake Design & Royal Icing Flowers, so here's a teaser on my final project (which is a 2-tiered Dark Chocolate Strawberry cake):

A Cure for a Case of the Mondays

I simply love how photography has the ability to capture God's creativity and sense of humor.  Here are a couple of examples:

To see the originals and more photography of Seth Casteel, check out http://littlefriendsphoto.com/index2.php#!/home.

The Rocks, err... Flowers... Cry Out

Luke 19:40 contains the frequently quoted "if these [followers] would keep quiet, even the rocks will cry out!"  After a trip to the Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington D.C. yesterday, I am convinced that nature DOES cry out as testament to the glory of God:

Springtime for... and Germany!!!!