My life took a significant detour in October and ever since then I've been working on a course correction. After putting up with back and hip pain for many months, I elected to have a spinal fusion -- major surgery that really rocked my very foundation -- and it's been a maddeningly slow recovery. Not only did I not have energy to cook, I didn't even have any interest in eating. Not the fodder for a blog that focuses on cooking and enjoying the end results.
Faced with dealing with the holidays, I've made a concerted effort to get back into the groove. I've been making one dish at a time and putting it in the freezer to enjoy when the family is here for Christmas. (It's amazing how physical cooking is! Lifting mixing bowls, stirring heavy doughs, holding the electric beater long enough to whip cream, even peeling, chopping, dicing vegetables are simple tasks that sap my energy.) But each finished dish gave me the confidence to forge on, and this week, heady with new-found energy, I decided to take on The Yule Log.
For years, I created a chocolate Buche de Noel that wowed my family when I placed it -- with dramatic flare -- on our Christmas Eve table. I got away from that annual triumph when I lived in Maine and commuted back to California for the holidays and just didn't have the time to make it. Call me crazy, but this year just seemed to demand a return to some kind of triumph. I needed to prove to myself that I was strong enough to pull it off in the kitchen, and probably my family also needed to see that my life was getting back to normal.
I'd made a Yule Log so many times in the past I really didn't need to rely on a recipe, but this year I was rusty. To my chagrin, I found that I'd stockpiled 3-4 recipes for this classic dessert, and therefore decided to consult them all, working back and forth between them. That was probably not my best idea. I'm not thrilled with the texture, and I'm definitely not happy that the softer cake refused to cooperate when I tried to craft the "knots" in the log. I've done better. But, here it is, and considering everything I had to deal with, not a small victory for me.
Faced with dealing with the holidays, I've made a concerted effort to get back into the groove. I've been making one dish at a time and putting it in the freezer to enjoy when the family is here for Christmas. (It's amazing how physical cooking is! Lifting mixing bowls, stirring heavy doughs, holding the electric beater long enough to whip cream, even peeling, chopping, dicing vegetables are simple tasks that sap my energy.) But each finished dish gave me the confidence to forge on, and this week, heady with new-found energy, I decided to take on The Yule Log.
For years, I created a chocolate Buche de Noel that wowed my family when I placed it -- with dramatic flare -- on our Christmas Eve table. I got away from that annual triumph when I lived in Maine and commuted back to California for the holidays and just didn't have the time to make it. Call me crazy, but this year just seemed to demand a return to some kind of triumph. I needed to prove to myself that I was strong enough to pull it off in the kitchen, and probably my family also needed to see that my life was getting back to normal.I'd made a Yule Log so many times in the past I really didn't need to rely on a recipe, but this year I was rusty. To my chagrin, I found that I'd stockpiled 3-4 recipes for this classic dessert, and therefore decided to consult them all, working back and forth between them. That was probably not my best idea. I'm not thrilled with the texture, and I'm definitely not happy that the softer cake refused to cooperate when I tried to craft the "knots" in the log. I've done better. But, here it is, and considering everything I had to deal with, not a small victory for me.
