Bruce’s Neighborhood

In the spirit of "Why Not?" and "I love the U.S.A.," Carrie and I will depart tomorrow on a road trip.

Usa

Carrie got a job with AmeriCorps, planting urban gardens or something dreamy like that, so I'm tagging along on her cross-country move. The road trip has us seeing lands we've only read about or seen in movies like Twister and river rafting movies (can't remember the name...maybe "A River Wild"?) - Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, Colorado.

We depart from Tallahassee on Monday or Tuesday, with no real plan other than, "We really want to see some cool scenery and go to some awesome national parks."

The tentative plan is Tallahassee --> New Orleans --> the Ozarks --> across Kansas --> south Colorado --> the Rockies --> Denver...and then I head to Chicago while Carrie trucks on through to Cali.

Usa_map

Hopefully there are lots of wifi hot spots so that I can post fun photos and musings from the road.

Alongside Grandpa Jim, the fish fry old hand, Grandma Bernie was the casserole and cake queen.  The duo's cuisine was Southern, exclusively. 

I have memories of Grandpa pushing a raw oyster and saltine cracker pushed down my gullet when I was just old enough to stand.  And I remember Grandpa didn't like going to restaurants.  Almost every weekend when I was a little kid Grandpa would drive to our house with a van full of 70s-colored, mismatched Tupperware containers.  Grandpa carried in his gnarled hands plastic pails full of ambrosia fruit salad (a syrupy mix of fresh fruit, fruit cocktail, coconut and plumped raisins) he had spent hours cutting and preparing, cooked down collard greens, cornbread, fish he had caught and fried the day before and a bushel of oysters to pry open.  The process of preparing and eating oysters suited Grandpa's temperament.  They required patience; Grandpa was so very patient.  Grandpa would sit quietly alone on the deck with tobacco, rolling papers, an ashtray and a lighter not too far away, cross his thin legs and sit for hours smokin' and shuckin'.  He'd sneak a few oysters for himself, but mostly he'd arrange them on several pans for everyone to eat.  When Grandpa was done everyone knew what to do without instruction.  I brought spoons to put in all of Grandpa's Tupperware, Dad brought plates, a box of saltine crackers and ketchup, Mom brought out the casserole dish of mac-n-cheese, Uncle Tom brought a pitcher of sweetsweetsweet tea.  Grandpa wouldn't eat any other way, I realize now.  Grandpa must be hee-hawin' all over heaven, considering my diet now consists of Grandpa's favorite foods.

"Grandma Bernie knew how to cook, too," mother reminds me.

Grandma Bernie was, they say, pretty famous around Plant City, Florida for her baking skills.  She entered the Plant City Strawberry Festival Cake Contest - and won.  I can remember eating soooo much of Grandma's legendary pink strawberry cake when I was young.  After Grandma died, the strawberry cake wasn't made much.  Until...one day, during my senior year of high school, the tradition was reinstated.  Mom asked me casually what my favorite cake was.  Without hesitation I responded, "The super sweet strawberry one."

Now, just when the produce stands are exploding in strawberry!, THE cake is baked.

Some notable strawberry cake appearances in the last few years:
-Mom brought a strawberry cake to Tallahassee (a 4 hour trip just to deliver the cake!!!) and we had a picnic at Lichgate
-I made one for my college roommates
-I made one to accompany the other pastries and cakes at Stephan's Marie Antoinette party
-I received a picture while in India of my niece chowing down on strawberry cake
-I made one for some friends at the farm just last week (it was fitting that one of my jobs that day was to pick and package strawberries) 

Cake at the Farm

The cake has a life of its own.  I have to make it every year, whether I consciously decide to or not.  And when it gets eaten, a picture must be taken.  It's like the gnome in Amelie that gets its picture snapped throughout its world travels.

Considering the sustainableorganichealthyunrefinednaturalnotransfatnoanimalproduct world I strive to live in, I've committed an atrocious, but necessary act.  I've adjusted Grandma's recipe a bit.  Bon appetit! 

Strawberry cakkkke

Grandma Bernie’s Award-Winning Strawberry Cake

--with a few Leah adjustments--

2 c. sugar

3/4 c. oil

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 tsp. lemon zest

1 ½ c. finely chopped strawberries (fresh or frozen)

4 eggs, beaten              [VEGAN: appropriate amount of ENER-G egg replacer]

*Preheat oven to 325 degrees.  Lightly butter [VEGAN: Earth Balance] and flour three 8-by-2-inch round.  Tap out excess flour and set aside (I used a bundt pan).

*In a large bowl, stir flour, sugar, oil, strawberries, vanilla, lemon zest, and eggs/egg replacer.

*Divide batter between pans.  Bake until light golden on top, about 28 minutes.  Rotating the pan halfway through helps to bake evenly. (If using a bundt pan, it takes a few minutes longer for cake to bake).

*Transfer pans to a wire rack to cool 10 minutes. Invert cakes onto wire rack. Re-invert cakes and let them cool completely with the top up.

*Cover with frosting and refrigerate.

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Strawberry Buttercream Frosting

2 boxes confectioner’s sugar (more or less)

1 c. butter, softened                  [VEGAN: Earth Balance]

¾ c. finely chopped strawberries

*Beat butter with mixer about 2 mins. or until creamy.  Add sugar and strawberries slowly and beat until desired consistency.  Depending on how juicy the berries are, add more sugar if too thin and more berries if too thick.

Occasionally in life, one is faced with the necessary reality of coping.  Coping with anything through any means.  The mechanism I prefer to utilize at the moment is coping through recognition of absurdity.  I work at a gift shop called SURPRISE!  Not an ideal job but certainly not torturous either.  Absurdity seems to surround me.  For example, I answer the telephone at work with the following, "Surprise! This is Megan!  How can I help you?"  miniMOVIES, specifically, have developed as an outlet for the expression of absurdity around me.  I have not solidified an "artist's statement" for this medium.  Nor do I give them much thought in preparation or post-production.  They are brief moments of absurdity.  And that is all.  I hope you can find as much joy in their existance as I have.