It is Sunday or Saturday. Wait no, it’s Monday. I just checked, and it is actually Thursday today. The hours, and days and weeks all seem to melt together into one massive mass of time. The only thing that differentiates my days are the recipes…
This recipe made its debut in our household my mistake. I had just made a pot of popcorn and was reaching high and far within my cupboard to get the salt, when the bottle of turmeric fell over and landed in my freshly, perfectly popped…
I returned home from a workshop feeling completely exhausted and absolutely famished. As I searched for my keys, my mind was in the kitchen thinking about what I could make for dinner.
Some garlic lemon salmon with asparagus? Or perhaps some asparagus soup?
As my mouth watered, I searched my pockets for my keys to open the door.
I searched my bag.
I emptied out my rucksack.
I shook the door in desperation and heard the keys inside rattling away.Ting a ling a ling.
It dawned on me that I had dashed out of the flat that morning and had closed the door, leaving the keys hanging inside.
I wanted to scream, yell at and bang the door down. But I didn’t.
I headed downstairs to the bakery next door and asked the baker if he would help me to break open my door. He seemed happy to take up the challenge and a gentleman who had overheard the conversation agreed to help as well.
I figured that within a few minutes, we would have the door open and I would be inside, making my dinner.
The two men began examining the door. They shook and pulled, trying to release the hinge. They wiggled and whammed at the door, and nothing budged.
One hour had passed and now they were kicking, and hammering and cursing.
A neighbour heard all of the commotion and offered to bring down some other tools, that would help to wedge the door open.
After 3 hours and twenty minutes of failed attempts, the men gave up, saying that they had to return to their own lives, leaving me there alone, drenched in tears and completely famished.
I watched the men go down the steps and leaned against my door, trying to figure out what to do next. With a heavy sigh of exacerbation, the door flung open!
I stood there in front of the door for about a minute, trying to digest what had just happened, and stared laughing so intensely that I had to bend over to contain myself.
By the time I finally got in, I was much too tired and hungry to make my planned dinner. So I oped for something quick, simple, and sweet enough-something to nourish my soul and sweeten my palate. The perfect way to end the day.
This recipe for chocolate mousse offers a beautiful, creamy texture that really melts in your mouth!
A delicious Chocolate Mouse with a nice kick
- 2 ripe avocados
- ½ cup of melted dark chocolate (70%)
- ¼ cup of cocoa powder
- ¼ cup almond or any milk of choice
- 2 tablespoons maple syrup or 5 dates softened in 1 tablespoon of water
- A pinch of sea salt
- Optional: for a beautiful kick: add a 1/8 tsp of chili powder and the zest of an orange
- Step 1 Put all of he ingredients into blender or a food processor and blend for about 2 minutes until the mixture becomes smooth and creamy.
- Step 2 Put the mixture into your serving bowls and let cool for a few hours in the refrigerator.
- Step 3 Enjoy!
My daughter had seen someone eating rice crispies in a movie and asked if we could make some. While I didn’t have either Rice crispy cereal or marshmallows in the house, we found some puffed rice and experimented a bit. . The end result is…
A triumphant scream emerged from my body and I started running around in my living room, throwing my arms up in the air and swinging my hips around as if I had just had a litre of wine. I put myself together, took a deep…
The following morning, I woke up another dream about Carl and woke up smiling. I grabbed my computer and went onto Facebook. There were only two Carl Shar’s and while none of the photos initially looked anything like the 6 year old Carl I knew…one of them made me take a closer look. It was a picture of a man with no hair on his head, glasses and a rather strong build. Could that be him? I asked myself. Could that be the curly-mained, tan coloured boy, whom I once loved?
Then, I saw his eyes through the thick glasses he had on, and knew that I had found him. My heart skipped a few beats and I heard myself breathing heavily. I’ll send him a message!
What would I say. How the heck would I even begin?
I typed, and deleted and typed and deleted countless times before I decided to just send whatever I had written. It took me an hour to write two sentences.
Hi Carl! Paula here…remember me, your friend from Mona Prep school in Jamaica-30 years ago.You just came to mind and I wanted to find out how you were doing. Paula
I pressed the send button, and a wave of embarrassment ran down my spine. Just as I was about to close the computer, a message came in.
Carl had sent me a message!
Whenever I make anything with coconut, I am taken right back into the Island of Jamaica-the place where my father was born, and the island I call home, irrespective of where I may be living.
As a child, I used to love eating Jamaican treats such as grater cake or coconut drops, which is basically shredded coconut boiled in sugar water, infused with a bit of ginger and let to dry. I found some coconut flakes in my pantry yesterday and decided to create a version with maple syrup and proves to be an equally addictive alternative.
Raw Coconut Macaroons
- 2 cups finely shredded dehydrated coconut
- 1 cup almond flour
- 12 tablespoons of melted coconut oil
- 5 tablespoons maple syrup
- 1 teaspoons fine sea salt
- Option: I love adding a dash of cardamon to give it a lovely extra, and a bit of lavender on top.
- Step 1 Mix all of the ingredients together in a bowl, until well blended and moist.
- Step 2 Form into little balls and place then on a plate.
- Step 3 Refrigerate the macaroon balls for at least an hour, and you are ready to go!
We held each other tightly for over an hour before he had to take leave to catch his flight back to Madrid. His arms were wrapped around my neck and shoulders like a thick scarf. Our silence expressed more to each other than we…