Tag: chocolate

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Engelheim Vineyards

Like John Muir, I often feel the mountains calling…..and I must go.

I was reminded of a story Dad told about his grandfather who once lived in Gainesville, Georgia, a mountainous area of our home state. Somewhere along the way, a rock marking his homestead was moved from that place in Gainesville by a family member to Dad’s house on St. Simons Island, Georgia, and one day this month, my brother and I will be retrieving it to go to our cousin Kathy Gilmer’s house. Kathy is compiling a book of family stories and will be the next keeper of the rock. I’ve often wondered where my inner mountain calling came from, and now I know how the mountain spirit got in my soul. Over the years, people have asked me how I could move away from the beach. Let me tell you something: densely-populated tourist-thronged beaches ripe with heat and humidity hold no sway over the tranquility of mountains in the early morning when the mist is rising and a veil of silence hangs low before sunrise. The clean air, the cool temperatures, the majestic views, and the vineyards are just as pure as the ocean, without the need for flood insurance.

So I did what any good daughter channeling her inner mountain gypsy would do right after Dad died and there was a space of resetting between the final days, the death, the funeral, and the business of closing down shop.

I rented an Airbnb in Ellijay and took my soul Schnauzer, Fitz, on a dog-friendly vineyard-hopping tour. Our first stop was Engelheim (translation: angel home) Vineyards, where Fitz’s German roots inspired me to order the Riesling, and every last sip was divine.

We must keep our sense of adventure alive…..whether with wine or with travel excursions or with ice cream, as we discussed in some of Dad’s final days of his life. The nurse in the hospital had offered him only vanilla or chocolate, and my brother, sister in law and I were discussing this with Dad. You can listen here:

Engelheim Vineyards

a glass of Riesling with Fitz

perfect afternoon

My vineyard hopping buddy Fitz with a glass of Riesling at Engelheim Vineyards in Ellijay, Georgia – cheers to the German breed and the German wine!
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Family Yule Log – Part 2 of 3

Part 1

Part 2

At 8:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve, my daughter and I began our first-ever Yule Log baking adventure in our pajamas in a rural countryside VRBO kitchen that was unfamiliar to us. When our Kentucky family got together to plan the Christmas dinner, everyone decided to divide the menu and each prepare a dish. Ever so daringly and boldly, she volunteered us to bring a Yule Log. She’d found an ambitious recipe online and had shopped for all the ingredients. She measured them into bags and brought them to the rental house.

By the time we arrived back from the only open store, a Dollar General on the backside of nowhere, we were well into the Christmas Eve hours when children are tucked into bed and elves begin working their magic. And we needed more than magic. We needed divine intervention. Lots and lots of prayer – my One Little Word for 2023. 

The recipe looked intimidating. We watched the video of the woman making it to try to ease my apprehension. So much had to go right, and I was fearful of a flop.

The old whipped-cream-on-the-nose baking pose

To ante up the challenge, we were using dishes that weren’t ours, cooking in a gas oven we didn’t know. The cardinal rule in baking is to “know thine oven,” and this beast was a complete and total stranger from another realm. 

Somehow, though, after all the beating of the egg whites with sugar to form stiff peaks and folding in that mixture with the flour and egg yolk and cocoa, she pulled a perfectly baked chocolate sponge cake from the oven, ready to be inverted onto parchment paper and rolled in a thin white towel and placed in the coolest part of the room to set before spreading the heavy whipped cream on it and re-rolling it. My daughter was unflappable throughout the whole process, but my nerves were on edge the entire time. I was trying not to show it. 

The cake is ready when it springs back into form when pressed

We watched the recipe video again when it came time to unroll the cake and spread the layer of whipped cream on the inside. 

The entire process involved phases of blending, folding, baking, setting, cooling, spreading, rolling, unrolling, and waiting. It also involved a lot of laughing to keep the nerves under control. It felt a lot like walking across a landmine with someone who didn’t know we were on a battlefield with so many potential pitfalls. 

As every step turned out, my daughter smiled through the entire process. She was baking a miracle as I stood amazed. Turns out, she hadn’t read the entire recipe before she started. Each small step was not overwhelming to her. I, on the other hand, saw every mile of the long journey and knew how risky it could be.

It came time for the rolled log to be iced, and her artistic flair came out in full force. 

She evened out the chocolate buttercream frosting into consistent thickness and began her artistic presentation using a fork to make bark lines, even making an elliptical shape to make it look more knotty and authentic, like an owl might pop its head out at any moment and ask us whoooo we were. She softened a Hershey bar and began the tedious process of shaving thin chocolate curls with a sharpened knife. And she placed peppermints in a Ziploc bag and crushed them to look like shimmering snow to top the Yule Log. 

And when her masterpiece was finished, she stood back and admired it with pride. 

“Look what we did, Ma! Thanks for making it with me. Without you, I probably would have given up.” 

I hugged her close, thinking, No, dear daughter. This is all your creation, not mine. I never would have even attempted it. You are far more courageous than I will ever be.

She inverted a mixing bowl to cover it like a cake lid and placed it in the refrigerator to chill overnight. I admired her accomplishment and thought of that Yule Log as a metaphor for all the ways we need each other. 

And we hugged goodnight, looking forward to sharing it with family on Christmas Day.

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Family Yule Log – Part 1 of 3

One of my daughters volunteered us to make a Yule log for Christmas dinner. We were in Kentucky, checking in to a VRBO after our 6-hour drive and a Christmas Eve Service of Lights when I found out. Without a mixer anywhere in the cabinets, the bold yellow glow of a Dollar General open until 10 p.m. on Christmas Eve on the backside of nowhere offered a glimmer of hope for the first miracle we’d need to create this masterpiece of skilled baking and artistry I seriously doubted either one of us had – – except for her creativity. That was the only strong possibility we had going between the two of us.

The recipe said it would take 3 hours. It was 7:30. The second miracle we’d need would be wakefulness. A working oven (in this one, we’d be cooking with gas) and all the right pans and an assortment of mixing bowls would need a divine nod, too. 

The irony is that just a day before, I’d seen a perfect Yule Log as I’d scrolled on Facebook. I admired the swirl, the spongy-looking cake, and the icing that looked like tree bark. Oh, to be able to make a thing like that, I thought to myself.

“Someday, when I’m retired and have more time and patience, I’d like to try making a Yule Log,” I shared with my husband, showing him the picture. He studied it for a moment, noticing its intricate design, and then studied me, handing the phone back. I think he halfway expected me to laugh, as if this were a joke. I didn’t.

“But what about all these different ingredients?” I asked my baking partner daughter. ”We may have a Dollar General, but we’ll never find a grocery store open after 6 on Christmas Eve.”

“No worries,” she assured me, holding up a bag filled with an assortment of Ziploc bags. ”I already have all that, already measured out. It’s in this bag, and everything is labeled, right down to the eggs.” 

Sure enough, she came ready with the ingredient part. We added a jelly roll sheet pan and a roll of parchment paper to our buggy, along with the mixer. Then we thought of a can of Pam, a Hershey Bar to make chocolate curls, and some peppermints to smash for a top-garnish. We were ready to check out and go get busy on our baking adventure of a lifetime. On Christmas Eve.

At 8:00 p.m., we began the 3-hour baking quest. 

“I’ll bet you didn’t think you’d find yourself making a Yule Log on Christmas Eve, did you?” she asked.

“This is not the first time I’ve found myself doing something I didn’t expect to be doing,” I reassured her with a smile of readiness for anything.

I heard my husband chuckling from the den, where he sat reading. ”Nope, it sure isn’t, and I’m sure it won’t be the last, either,” he added.

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Slice of Life Challenge – March 5 – A Godiva Chocolate Review

In February, I started thinking about all the interesting ways I might involve others in my blog posts in March for the Slice of Life Challenge. Product reviews were one of the ideas I had, and so I sent products to several of my friends and family members asking them to dive into a fun experience and to share some feedback.

My brother came to mind right away, and since it was Valentine’s Day, I sent him a text:

I considered several brands of chocolate, but landed squarely on the one with a little bit of spicy history in its name. I ordered two boxes of Godiva – one for my brother and one for the woman he loves – and had them shipped to his front door.

No one ever says no to reviewing chocolate.

In February, I introduced my brother and his girlfriend on the blog when he shared a great strategy for deepening their relationship through a game called Let’s Get Deep. I promised in that post that they’d be back in March with a big announcement about their tastes. So here is the announcement: they love Godiva chocolate, and there is a clear winner on the exact piece that they both think is the best.

Their overall winner is the Dark Chocolate Lava Cake Truffle.

They shared their review: “The lava cake’s consistency is good, with a dual filling of a fusion of molten chocolate and decadent dark chocolate, which is representative of our love. It’s our favorite flavor, but also a metaphor of how filled we are with love for each other. Although the name of the candy is over-complicated, it’s a lot like our relationship – an easy, simple, and flavorful experience.”

Long live love…..and chocolate!

Special thanks to Two Writing Teachers