A new year. I love the freshness of it. The idea that anything can happen. The blank page, unmarked by triumphs or failures, only plans and dreams. 2012 is destined to be a year distinctly unlike any I’ve experienced thus far. Big plans, full of space to wander and make mistakes and feel joy are outlined. (I’ll tell you about them soon. Promise!)

We may only be five days in, but I’m smitten. The days have been slow. Pajama-clad mornings, days absorbed in books, with scones. Thrown together, pulled from the oven, enjoyed with some tea and a book.

I’ve also spent a little time reflecting. 2010 was a year marked by illness. 2011 became a year where health flourished. I’m so grateful that I can say that. 2011 was the year I graduated. It was a year where I finally got to meet so many of the friends I’ve made through this space. It was a year of great joy. The biggest illnesses were colds and mild flus (none of that head cold-sinus infection-flu trifecta of 2010, or pneumonia-snowball of 2007. Phew.). This past semester, I’ve missed only 2 days. Two! Compared with the 3-1/2 months I missed last fall, this is heaven. I’m still flabbergasted that it was just two days this semester. A yucky little flu, stealing a few days. No lingering. That’s what I wish for you all. No lingering illnesses. That, and days filled with laughter and great joy.

I know I waxed on about it last year, but the scale? It’s really really great. Changed how I bake. All you need is a spoon to measure out flours. That means that all you have to wash is one spoon. How great is that?!

Oh, butter. You’re pretty darn awesome too.

Using a glass to cut out biscuits or scones always makes me think of my Great-Aunt. We used to make her biscuit recipe all the time, pre-celiac. There was no better way to cut them out than with a glass. Especially one that’s been lightly dipped in flour (I used sweet rice).

We had a little bit of half & half in the fridge, so I brushed the tops with it. I don’t know if it makes much difference, but I love the decidedly whiteness of it. It’s bright, with fat and flavour.

Currants are quite lovely. They give the effect of dried fruit without being overpowering. They become a note or addition, not the entire focus.

Don’t forget to write messages in the flour. It’s an important part of this recipe (not really, but it sure is fun!). Happy 2012!

And there we have it. Currant Scones, with tea. A lovely way to welcome this great new year, and say goodbye to the last. 2011, I’m honoured to have known you. 2012, I’m so ready to make you sensational.

xoxo
Lauren

Twitter, Facebook and Flickr.

I’m kind of in disbelief that there are only a few short sleeps until 2011 is over. It’s been quite the year. These past few months have raced by at lightning speed, with work and excitement flooding the days. Right now, I’m sitting in my living room, with family. We’re all scattered on our various implements and gifts, in that post-Christmas joyfulness. Books, games, movies, and a little writing, here. Every time I’ve sat down to write in the past while, it’s been with a pre-defined purpose. Something that will be marked, graded, sent off to be analyzed by someone wiser than I. Although my final exams aren’t yet upon me, that time where I melt into the computer and pour out an essay that’s been simmering in the back of my head for awhile, that time has been postponed. Repeatedly put off while I write something I’m required to, or study quarks and organic chemistry (but don’t you dare get me wrong- I adore all of the science. It’s utterly enthralling. I can’t wait to learn more and more of it). Now, though, is time for rest and reconnection.

Boxing Day has always been one of those grand yet quiet days for me. Either a day in transit as we recuperate from the festivities of Christmas, or a day like this one. Waking up slowly, skiing, lazing about, with a hearty dash of loving food.

This time of year is one of sharing. Of giving. Of celebrating and loving. These marshmallows? I’ve been sharing them all about. Bags to friends, here and there. Spreading some holiday cheer, all around. Most of all, I’ve been dropping them into hot chocolate. I love to curl up with a cup while decompressing after the day, or while chatting with friends.

To make this recipe even better, it came from my dear friend Aimée, who writes both Simple Bites and Under the High Chair. When I visited her over the summer, she gave me one of my first tastes of homemade marshmallows. Cinnamon and vanilla ones, if I remember correctly. Heaven. I’ve played around with a few different recipes as of late. The vanilla bean ones from Ashley at Not Without Salt are sublime as well. In the spirit of the season though, here is my ever-so-slightly adapted recipe for peppermint marshmallows. If you’ve never had homemade marshmallows, I dare you to make some to ring in the new year, no matter what recipe you use. They’re positively magnificent, and incredibly easy. The only scary part is boiling the sugar. Aside from that, your mixer does all the work. Then, you have marshmallows that you can share with friends, who will be amazed that you! made! these!

Soft, pillowy and collecting light. That crisp winter morning light is such a treat. Especially on days where I can watch it stream in, rather than being out the door before the first ray of sunlight makes its appearance.

After ensuring the top was coated with enough icing sugar, I flipped it over and covered the rest. With candy recipes, you just have to make sure to read the instructions. Make sure to follow them. I know that sounds obvious, and it is. Candy recipes are often simpler than we build them up to be (or at least that’s true for how they’ve been built up in my head!), so read and conquer. You can do it.

On the morning I was cutting these marshmallows, my friend Kate came over (Hi Kate!). I met her through this space. We baked together. One holiday recipe from my family (cookies!) and one from hers. She shared this spectacular bark, a chocolate-laden pistachio bark. Oh my. When my brother found it in the freezer (where it’s stored), he told me to get the recipe. He said he wanted to make it. That’s big, really big. This bark is so incredibly good. Go see Kate for the recipe. I have no doubt that it’ll be popping up in my house sometime soon.

No matter what, marshmallows are a fun thing to throw together. Taste some homemade marshmallows soon, if you haven’t already.

I hope you’re all enjoying the holiday season and copious amounts of hot chocolate! I can’t wait to see what marvelous things 2012 will bring to all of us. I’m positive it’s going to be a phenomenal year, just as 2011 has been. Wishing merry merry, happy happy days to all of you!

xoxo
Lauren

Twitter, Facebook and Flickr.

Falling back is one of those little gifts. We get one extra hour. I suppose it was loaned to us from the spring, but I’m taking it. I woke up before the sun today. My body said it was later than normal, but it was still earlier than I expected to wake. I didn’t grab my phone the moment I got up. Instead, I went to the spot I left my book. I’m in a book phase. I’m in a driving phase. I’m in a dreaming phase. None of these are really phases- but when I’ve fallen really ill or allowed busyness to fill up every moment, I become short-sighted. I forget about the stacks of books I want to read. I don’t write, bake, and only take the odd photo. I lose that part of myself that I need to live, not just survive. The part that makes me so quirkily me.

I finished that book, and have been keeping one in my bag, with me, wherever I go. Marveling at characters, at stories, at possibilities. I’m about to pick up a book my friend A’s mom handed me, after I handed her these cookies. These incredibly simple, marvelous cookies. The cookies based off of A’s grandmother’s recipe- a recipe I found nestled in one of my family cookbooks, handwritten by A’s mom, years and years ago. Searching for a good, old, family-tested oatmeal cookie recipe, I knew I had to adapt it. Nothing major, just to make it gluten-free.

They’re good cookies. Time-tested. After making them, I came across another recipe for oatmeal cookies- almost identical to A’s grandma’s, using all the same principles. These are cookies you could double, and make a date spread to sandwich between two of them, as A’s grandma’s recipe suggested. This time, all I was searching for was a marvelous, simple oatmeal cookie recipe. An oatmeal cookie recipe to celebrate and savour gorgeous gluten-free rolled oats. That’s exactly what it was: a celebration of oats and of oatmeal cookies. The best way I know (along with a few bowls of my favourite soup and a good book) to welcome winter.

Oh, I love this dough. Especially since you can eat it, licking the bowl and all, without feeling the least bit guilty. Or at least not guilty about eating any raw eggs!

I love the “walnut-sized” description. It’s exactly the size you want. A little bigger than a tablespoon, but not too much more. A walnut-sized ball.

Then, simply squish the cookie dough balls down to make your cookies.

They don’t spread much as they bake. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t fun to watch while baking. Especially as the scent of oatmeal cookies starts to spread through the house, it’s hard not to be drawn to the kitchen.

Et voila. Oatmeal cookies. Perfect alongside a cup of tea and a good book.

What are you reading these days? I’m always looking for good books, especially recommended reads!

xoxo
Lauren

Twitter, Facebook and Flickr.

The light is changing. It doesn’t last as long. I wake up in the dark and go to bed when it’s dark, rather than light and light. Fall is here. Autumn can be felt in the air. Each tree and hedge is letting the season change in stride. Some are aflame in reds and yellows, while others are clutching their green with every cell. With the new season decidedly here, it’s time for Thanksgiving. Canadian Thanksgiving, of course!

Time to be thankful, time to celebrate what we have. Time to gather with those we love and savour marvelous food. Turkey, pumpkin pie, all the good stuff.

These biscuits are simple. They’re based off of my millet biscuits, using all the same flours and dry ingredients. The cheese is light and just a nice tone. The sharper the cheese you choose, the more pronounced the flavour will be.

Ribbons of freshly shredded cheddar. I love the simplicity and the flavour it brings.

We make millet biscuits all the time, so this dough is one of my favourites. So lovely. And easy. And since this recipe shares all the dry ingredients, you can make a mix and use it for either.

When baked, they’re wonderful. Subtle cheddar flavour, and brilliant biscuit form. I’m such a sucker for biscuits.

It’s a great time to stop and smell the roses. Figuratively and literally- if you’re lucky enough to stumble upon a rose garden, as I was. I love this time of year. Routine is just starting to return, and nature is bright and reminding me how valuable each moment is.

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend. I’m thankful for so much, but one of the biggest things is this space. Thank you for all the good you bring to it. It’s truly a joy to share here.

xoxo
Lauren

Twitter, Facebook and Flickr.

I’ve written this post in my head about ten times. The type of post you think of repeatedly, somehow hoping that it materializes all typed up, with photos at opportune breaks. Every time, it hasn’t happened. Some other pie has come into my life, or a loss for words has washed over me.

I haven’t baked an outrageous amount this summer, but I have baked a lot of pie. I’ve shared a lot of pie. This summer has been about pie. Be it that gorgeous raspberry pie made with the perfectly ripe raspberries, or the peanut butter pie made to remember a man I never knew. The latter was the one that kicked me in the gut (not the pie itself, but the reason why thousands of us made it). I made it for family, using saved images on my phone to read the recipe, in my grandma’s cottage. In the place which was the epitome of family to me. I guesstimated some parts, compensating with as much love as I had. It was a great pie. When it was gone, all I wanted was for it to still be here – for Mikey to still be here. I hugged everyone tighter, longer that day. And have done so every day since.

When I made my next pie, news came of another death. Another man taken too young. Another widow, shattered. More travel, more baking. Another man. This time, it was expected. That doesn’t make it easy. All it does is provide the knowledge that he lived a long, full life. That he met all of his grandchildren, and many of his great-grandchildren.

Pie has been my way to share memories. It’s always been something filled with stories of family. When I think of pie, I think of love. I think of giving. It celebrates the seasons. It celebrates life, love and gathering. Like life, it’s brilliant when messy. In fact, it’s often better. When my sweet cousin asked me what I’d make if I could only bake one thing for the rest of my life? The answer was pie. The answer has always been pie. It’s ingrained in me.

My great-grandmothers, the brilliant women I’ve never met, would throw pies together. A couple, every Sunday. No recipes, just a decided understanding of what to do and how to work a wood oven. I learned how to make pie crust beside my aunt and my cousin. This summer, I made two pies in the spot where I first learned. Standing at the crooked counter in grandma’s cottage, emotions surged through me. The first pie was that one for Mikey, the second was one of this summer’s great discoveries. Raspberry blueberry peach pie. The best pie I’ve ever made? I don’t doubt it.

I also shared pie with friends. One of the best parts about Canada is the diversity of cultures. That meant that one of my friends, who has lived from here to Europe and the Middle East, had never made pie. In fact, she’d only tried two kinds before – one just a few weeks prior to baking with me. After only tasting apple and coconut cream pie, I knew that I had to share a summer celebration pie. If you’ve grown up with pie as I have, you likely know the type. The freshest produce, singing with its sweet summer flavour, thrown into a pie. We had raspberries, blueberries and peaches in my kitchen, so that was the pie we made. Perfection. Watching her enjoy it was almost as good as the pie itself. But that pie would be hard to beat. I’m excited to share more pies in the future, and enjoy more of her favourite treats as well.

I don’t know how to adequately convey the importance of pie in my life. It’s shaped who I am. Not in terms of calories and pounds, but with memories and how I tackle the world. I’m quiet, honest. I’m simple and sometimes messy. I don’t reveal all of my secrets at first glance, but the odd bits, like this space, are out there for anyone to see. I stay in my comfort zone a lot, between two carefully crafted crusts. But if the ball is dropped or you really get to know me, I lay it all out.

They sometimes say that people are like icebergs, with only ten percent of who we are able to be seen. The problem I have with that is that it portrays people as being cold, without compassion. Pie, on the other hand can be warm or cold and is always meant to share. Each pie we make teaches us something. Some decisions in life are big flops, just like the odd pie. Most though, are beautiful in their own way. Some drip with garnet juices, others are tinged with browns around the edges, but every pie is special in its own way. Even if just for the lesson it left, it shapes how you make the next one, as each memory and experience affects how we live.

If I had a recipe for most of these pies, I’d share. The peanut butter pie is over at Jennie’s site (I just made sure the chocolate cookies were gluten-free ones). While you’re there, go leave her some love.

My go-to gluten-free pie crust is here. The crusts are a little bit more tricky than the below filling, but that’s half the fun. Pie crust is one of my favourite things to make.

For the raspberry blueberry peach pie, I threw together a cup or so of raspberries, a cup or so of blueberries, a couple of sliced, skinned peaches, a cup of sugar, a tablespoon or two of cornstarch, some lemon juice and vanilla. All tossed together, allowed to sit for ten minutes. Dumped into a prepared pie crust, dotted with butter and then sealed with a top crust, which was scored to let the steam out. Brushed with a little milk and sprinkled with some sugar. With a baking sheet on the rack below the pie, I baked at 425 for 15 minutes, then turned down to 350 for 45 minutes or longer, until done.

I know, it’s not a specific recipe. It’s a pie recipe. Room to wiggle, room to play, and room to forge your own path and memories.

Now it’s your turn. What does pie mean to you? And what is your favourite type of pie? I’d love to know.

xoxo
Lauren

Twitter, Facebook and Flickr.

Summer days are meant for ice cream. Be it a cone at the pool, a scoop after a game or a bowl just about any time, they’re made for right now. With so many fantastic, naturally gluten-free kinds of ice cream, I have never worried about missing out on cookie dough. The other day, as I was making a batch of vanilla ice cream, curiosity blossomed. The words “cookie dough” shot across my synapses. Could I? Surely it couldn’t be too hard. This isn’t rocket science. No, it’s ice cream. Ice cream with cookie dough. I didn’t think I could go wrong. What resulted was a smooth vanilla ice cream studded with chunks of cookie dough.

It was perfection. A few friends came over to have a scoop one night, and it was well received to say the least. Upon finishing her bowl, one of my oldest, dearest friends declared that she wanted me to give her homemade ice cream for her birthday. Come February, she’ll have a few liters all to herself. Until then, we’ll all be fighting over each bite.

The recipe for this ice cream is based off of David Lebovitz’s vanilla ice cream, and the cookie dough is based off of my mom’s chocolate chip cookies. It’s the best of both worlds. Cookie dough and dreamy, creamy ice cream. I can’t make it too often, or we’ll never stop eating it.

—

These. They’re little balls of heaven. You know how you’re not supposed to have raw egg? Well these don’t have any. But they still taste like cookie dough. I just wouldn’t bake them. They’re not made for that. They’re made for ice cream. And munching while waiting for the ice cream to churn.

Also, don’t worry about making them perfect. They’re not made for that either. They’ll be covered in ice cream then smashed by spoons and scoops.

I took photos of it as we ate. Besides a quick snap of my own bowl, there was no time to make pictures before eating. Our eyes just got bigger and our stomachs hungrier as we waited. So, there was only a moment before we all dug in.

We had chocolate that night too. More of David Lebovitz‘s ice cream. This was one that Hannah recently posted (and she made it without a machine, by David’s fantastic method. I haven’t tried his method with the cookie dough ice cream, but it’s worth a go!). Seriously awesome. You need that ice cream, too. Changed how I thought about chocolate ice cream. The creaminess! The depth! It deserves a starring role in your freezer sometime summer.

Can you do one thing for me this summer? Something that’s not for me at all? Get lost. Go somewhere you’ve never been. Perhaps there is a nook of the city you’ve been curious about, or somewhere out of the city limits. Getting lost with a few friends is always the beginning of great days, wonderful stories and inside jokes. I plan on doing it more often. And with sights like this, how can you resist? Summer is such a beautiful time of year.

In other good news, The Kitchen Generation is back and running. We’ve been regrouping, but there is a bunch of new content, both posted and soon to come.

Lots of love to you all. I hope this season has been treating you all exceptionally well.

xoxo
Lauren

Twitter, Facebook and Flickr.

Twelve years, three schools, countless teachers, and the birthplace of lifelong friendships. It all came to this: graduation. That time of year where stress is in the air and hope is in our hearts. Each step had prepared us for the next one. We went to elementary to learn how to learn, how to get along with our peers, read, write and have an introduction to what the next six years would teach. In junior high, hormones raged as we tested out a little independence. We moved between classes on our own, but most of all, we kept learning how to learn. Come high school, each year was a build up to the next. We were always training for the next step. We still are. In high school, we had to decide what that next step would be. Were we training for university? For a trade? For whatever would take us? Each of us have our own answers. Choosing the stream of classes to fit us best, we worked towards our goal. However, there are always bumps along the road, so teachers were always there to steer us and provide options.

Now, with all of the diplomas complete, I’m starting to breathe. Those scary government tests worth half our grade are off to be marked. In a month, we’ll stand on our stoops and tear into the envelope with our marks. With any luck, those twelve years (well, 15 if you count preschool and kindergarten) have prepared us well enough for that one June morning. We’ll find out soon enough. The conditional acceptances will become full-blown ones. The gap years will begin. Planes will take off, and summer jobs will have orientation.

Somewhere along the line, we grew up. At least we started to do so. We’re stepping into that fabled “real world” which we have been warned of forever. We will fail. We will fail more times than we can count (which will hopefully make for some fantastic stories). Then, we’ll find the occasional wisp of success. If we’re lucky, our twelve years of school will have taught us to learn from those mistakes and failures. But who are we kidding – no one is hoping to fail. Who wants to fall flat on their face or lose what they’ve been working towards for so long? Graduation is our big celebration to say, “We did it. We made it through.” And that’s exactly what we did.

I just made it to the Graduation ceremony. These twelve years have been bursting with the unexpected, so it was only fitting that I made it to the ceremony with a dash of adventure and hearty handful of uncertainty. Alas, I made it. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She said as she shook my hand. “Me too,” I thought, “me too.”

Between graduation and my long list of exams, I haven’t spent much time in the kitchen lately. Luckily, I’m not the only one that enjoys baking in my house. This recipe is my mom’s. She adapted it to be gluten-free from Leite’s Culinaria. All I did was eat it (well, I made the one pictured yesterday morning, but she made it the other six plus times). It’s a regular at our house and never ever lasts more than twenty-four hours. It’s best when warm, with the scent filling the air and the chocolate chips in that perfect gooey state. I’ve been hiding bananas away just so they could age and we could make more.

Brown bespeckled bananas are always a spectacular place to start a recipe, in my opinion. I’ve never particularly loved bananas in their normal state, but mash ‘em up and bake them into a bread? I’m sold. I used about 3 1/2 for this recipe, but it’ll all depend on the size of your particular bananas.

Chocolate chips always sweeten the deal.

Not to mention this batter. Luscious and lumpy. It’s gorgeous. I think you need it in your life (preferably when it’s just about to be stuffed into the oven and baked to perfection). And as it bakes? A buttery aroma weaves its way through the house. You’ve been warned.

Yes. I think I shall go grab a piece. Well, another one.

See those perfectly gooey chocolate chips? Yes. I love those so.

Just like that, I’m no longer a high school student. I’m always amazed by how long the days are yet how fast the years go. We certainly live in a beautiful, crazy world. Now, summertime. Ah, how I love summer. I hope all of you have a fabulous summer (or winter, depending on where you are!), and Happy Canada Day!

xoxo
Lauren

Twitter, Facebook and Flickr.

I’m not the same baker I was when I was when I started creating in this space. To start baking, I now pull out my scale. I don’t think twice about using a handful of flours. Xanthan gum doesn’t always make it in (and it doesn’t always need it – like these). Sometimes I take photos all the way through the process. And sometimes you’ll even find me in an apron.

I don’t know which is the biggest change, because it’s all flowed coming in stages. All of these changes feel natural. Well, maybe not the apron thing. I’m still getting used to that.

Now, this month I’m hosting the Gluten-Free Ratio Rally. I challenged us to make Scones. They’re one of the quickest things to put together, yet are so varied with many schools of thought. Ruhlman doesn’t have a ratio for them, which I think made this all the more fun. There’s a huge range of ratios. Some scones are cream-based, some are butter-based, some are egg-based, and some are a combination of those. You’ll want to check out everyone’s, because there are so many beautiful, brilliant combinations.

I went for cream and butter drop scones. Using a ratio of 4:4:1 (flour to half and half to butter) and a shake of sugar, I found a lovely scone. (I found my inspiration in this Smitten Kitchen recipe, but kind of went off on a very different tangent).They have a bunch of whole grains, and although there is no corn in them, something is corny about them. But it’s more complex than corn. It’s millet, brown rice and sorghum with flax seed. You can taste those facets in a way that would never happen with a wheat-based good. That’s another reason I adore gluten-free baking specifically. It’s altogether much more interesting with so many more flavours available to be played with.

And with this recipe, I used half and half. Partially because I had some left over from this ice cream, and partially because I was interested to see what happened .

—

Check out these scones too!

Amie of The Healthy Apple - http://thehealthyapple.com/2011/05/04/gluten-free-rice-crispy-scones/
Britt of GF in the City – http://www.gfinthecity.com/2011/05/gluten-free-ratio-rally-scones.html
Brooke of B & the Boy – http://bellwookie.blogspot.com/2011/05/coconut-scones.html
Caleigh of Gluten-Free[k] - http://gluten-freek.blogspot.com/2011/05/jam-on-top-or-cream-on-top.html
Caneel of Mama Me Gluten-Free - http://mamameglutenfree.blogspot.com/2011/05/savory-jalapeno-cheese-scones.html
Caroline of The G-Spot - http://thegspotrevolution.com/?p=3228
Charissa of Zest Bakery - http://www.zestbakery.com/ingredient/almond/amaretto-soaked-cherry-and-almond-scones/
Claire of Gluten Freedom - http://www.thisglutenfreelife.org/2011/05/ratio-rally-strawberry-banana-scones.html
Erin of the Sensitive Epicure - http://thesensitiveepicure.blogspot.com/2011/05/millet-scones-gfree-rally.html
Gretchen of Kumquat - http://kumquat-blog.blogspot.com/2011/05/gluten-free-ratio-rally-maple-oat-nut.html
Irvin of Eat the Love - http://www.eatthelove.com/2011/05/spotlight-on-savory-green-garlic-bacon-thyme-scones-with-white-pepper-maple-glaze-gluten-free-ratio-rally
Jeanette of Jeanette’s Healthy Living - http://www.jeanetteshealthyliving.com/2011/05/glutendairyegg-free-coconut-pineapple.html
Jenn of Jenn Cuisine - http://jenncuisine.com/2011/05/banana-apple-and-currant-scones-gluten-free
Karen of Cooking Gluten-Free - http://cookingglutenfree.com/2011/05/gluten-free-ratio-rally-oat-scones-with-currants/
Kate of Katealice Cookbook - http://katealicecookbook.com/2011/05/04/cinnamon-fruit-scones/
Lisa of Gluten-Free Canteen - http://glutenfreecanteen.com/2011/05/03/gf-ratio-rally-bisconies-actually/
Lisa of With Style and Grace - http://withstyle.me/2011/05/04/gf-lavender-earl-grey-lemon-scones
Marla of Family Fresh Cooking - http://www.familyfreshcooking.com/2011/05/02/avocado-scones-vegan-and-gluten-free-recipe/
Meaghan of Wicked Good Vegan - http://www.thewickedgoodvegan.com/2011/05/04/gf-scones/
Melanie of Mindful Food - http://mindfulfood.blogspot.com/2011/05/hazelnut-cream-scones-with-blackberry.html
Meredith of Gluten Free Betty - http://glutenfreebetty.blogspot.com/2011/05/cinnamon-raisin-scones-for-gluten-free.html
Morri of Meals with Morri - http://mealswithmorri.blogspot.com/2011/05/yerba-mate-chai-scones.html
Mrs. R of Honey from Flinty Rocks - http://honeyfromflintyrocks.wordpress.com/2011/05/04/classic-cream-scones-gluten-amp-dairy-free/
Mrs. R of Honey from Flinty Rocks - http://honeyfromflintyrocks.wordpress.com/2011/05/04/almond-fig-scones-gluten-amp-dairy-free/
Peter and Kelli of No Gluten, No Problem - http://noglutennoproblem.blogspot.com/2011/05/gluten-free-ratio-rally-mesquite-scones.html
Sea of Book of Yum - http://www.bookofyum.com/blog/may-ratio-rally-gluten-free-classic-dairy-free-scone-recipe-6823.html
Shauna of Gluten-Free Girl and the Chef - http://glutenfreegirl.com/gluten-free-scones/
Silvana of Silvana’s Kitchen - http://silvanaskitchen.com/2011/05/gluten-free-pecan-streusel-scones-with-cinnamon-drizzle
Tara of A Baking Life - http://abakinglife.blogspot.com/2011/05/gluten-free-ratio-rally-ginger-scones.html
TR of No One Likes Crumbley Cookies - http://tcrumbley.blogspot.com/2011/05/gluten-free-cinnamon-pecan-scones.html
Wendy of La Phemme Phoodie - http://laphemmephoodie.com/2011/05/red-velvet-scones-for-the-gluten-free-ratio-rally.html
Winnie of Healthy Green Kitchen - http://www.healthygreenkitchen.com/coconut-raisin-scones-gluten-free-and-vegan.html

My apron, my brightly coloured tights. My camera strap hanging down. Fairly regular day at the office.

Flours, all ready to be whisked together upon the scale. (Note – 175 g is not the total amount of flours I used. It was 200 g. I still had to add that last 25 g in this photo).

Isn’t it beautiful to watch liquid pour? The half and half cascaded down in dreamy streaks.

All dropped. They are drop scones after all! No special measuring or extra equipment. Just a simple spoon.

When they’re done, they’re gorgeous. At least that was what I thought. One of the batches I made came out more rounded (not so spiky). However, those were gone before I could take photos of them, so you’ll have to make do with these images.

Oh hey! That’s me! I just realized I’d never shared a photo of myself here. Sure, on a handful of other mediums, but not here. So, Hello! It’s nice to see you. I find it fitting that I’m ever-so-slightly blurry, because the truth is that this place is all about the food. Well, with me interpreting, creating and sharing it. This place is home to me. Baking, writing and taking photos – it’s all home.

Anyways, it’s been an absolute honour to host – and I can’t wait to see what Erin does next month! The gluten-free ratio rally is always lots of fun. Thank you to Shauna, who got us all together, and to all of you who help it grow and adapt each month.

xoxo
Lauren

Twitter, Facebook and Flickr.

Raw food. What comes to mind first? I think of my dog’s food. I know that sounds positively terrible, but he’s been on a raw food diet for almost all of his life. Raw meat, some vegetables, things like that. But, let me tell you one thing: this is not your dog’s raw food.

Last month, Brittany contacted me and a huge group of wonderful, talented bloggers to invite us to be a part of April in the Raw, a month of raw-inspired dishes. I said yes! This sounded like fun. I love catering to a wider variety of diets. But then I hit a wall. I’m a baker. Turning on the oven is how I start to create. Heat is where I start, how I craft. So, I mulled it over for a few weeks.

Sidenote: Isn’t this logo gorgeous? The talented Lexie created it! Thank you Lexie!

For my birthday, I got an ice cream maker. Upon the discovery that I didn’t have to make a custard before throwing some things in there, I knew this is where I was headed. No heat. No cooking. No enzymes changing shape. At least I didn’t used any heat (some of the ingredients called for may be heated depending on the processing. For example, if your half & half is pasturized, like mine, this isn’t raw. But, if you have a reputable raw milk source, it could work – there’s a great article & debate in the comments on raw milk (which, I have never tried, but wouldn’t say no to) over at Simple Bites. I believe some honey is cooked too, so just get raw honey if you’re concerned.) I made ice cream. A raw-inspired ice cream.

This is my first attempt at ice cream (in an ice cream maker, at least), so be gentle. I pretty much made up the oh-so-complex recipe. We had half and half, so that’s what I used. I wanted to use honey to sweeten, so I did. Add a splash of vanilla, and you’re good. What I got was an ice cream that was cold, but melted fast. It was soft, and like a milkshake. In fact, I think putting it in a milkshake glass, letting it come to room temperature a touch and sticking a straw in might be the perfect way to enjoy. Using a spoon and a pretty bowl does the trick too . However, if you let it hang out in the freezer for awhile it hardens up some, so there are lots of options!

I put some in the freezer overnight, and because of the low fat content (compared to a heavy cream-based ice cream), it froze really quite hard, but not in a creamy sense. I would recommend eating it soon after making, perhaps leaving it in the freezer for an hour or so if you wished for it to harden some.

I decided to stick with the raw ease and chop up some dates to place on top. After sitting atop the ice cream, the dates become cold, creating a really lovely texture contrast between the chewiness of the dates and the soft smooth ice cream.

Et voila! Simple. Easy. And lovely. It isn’t a rich ice cream, but light and easy to eat. It’s cold and brings back memories of vanilla milkshakes after swimming. Having a taste, I’m a little kid again, with just-starting-to-dry hair, a body happily worn out from laps and a stomach yearning for good food. Along with some cream of broccoli soup, macaroni and cheese or fresh pizza, this would be a perfect memory meal. (At least, for me!). Do you have any milkshake memories? Perhaps this would be a fun way to reignite them.

Not to mention, go check out the rest of the April in the Raw contributions! I’m the second last day of posts, so there are oodles of raw-inspired (and much more creative!) dishes accross the web. Go check them (and their talented authors!) out.

xoxo
Lauren

Twitter, Facebook and Flickr.

[Before I get started, I should explain the photo. I only took photos of these once- the time I made them for school, for a project. We were unionists (as in we supported the formation of unions in the UK in the 1800s). Anyways, long story short, our slogan was "Working together for you!" In a way, it applies here, as I'm working for you and we're all in this together. PS - I'd love to hear from you if you haven't said hello before! Cupcakes, just like birthdays and websites are meant for sharing!]

Three years ago, I pressed publish on my first post. It was my fifteenth birthday. I had inklings of starting a site in the days before, but that day, I sat down and did it. I haven’t regretted that decision for a second.

In the past three years, I have met some of the most incredible people. People who light up my day, on a daily basis. I’ve met people who write some of the most beautiful sites I know of. Without you? Celiac Teen wouldn’t be what it is today. I know that for a fact.

Today is a day of change. It is a day of surprises and excitement, but also a day just like any other. Today is my first day of adulthood. Yep. Today, in addition to Celiac Teen’s third birthday, is my birthday. I’m eighteen today.

Somehow, it all feels momentous. I can buy a lottery ticket. I can drink (if I had the desire to). I can vote (and I will, come May 2nd). I’m no longer a kid, at least not in the true sense of the word. I’m entering into a new phase of my life. Here begins my fourth year of blogging, my first year as an adult, the end to high school and the beginning of the “real world” as they like to say.

It’s somewhat bittersweet. Most of all, it’s exciting. This next year only has some plans pencilled in. I’m pretty sure that I know where the first half of it is headed, but past that? It’s anyone’s guess. I’m dreaming of faraway places and months of language learning. I’m dreaming of living on my own for the first time. I’m wallowing in the uncertainty. Teetering on all the good that is to come. I don’t doubt that the most amazing moments will be unexpected ones – they always are. I’m looking forward to hours of being in the kitchen. Hours of sitting down and writing. Hours of soaking up the company of those I love. Hours of exploring.

Today, I have this recipe for you. It’s cupcakes- vanilla cupcakes. The recipe they’re based off of? I found it on twitter, from the brilliant Aimée. They’re a cinch. I think I’ve made about 7 batches of them in the past few weeks, bringing a great majority of those to school to share. Friends asked for the recipe, and they disappeared in a hurry. Among tables of baked goods (mostly gluten-full), these were the first to disappear. They highlight all of the goodness of vanilla, with a comforting texture. Not too moist, not too dry, but just right.

I’m of the camp that vanilla is an exotic flavour. Using the best vanilla you have, this is a prime use of the good stuff. I’ve made it with two vanillas – a Mexican one and one from Madagasgar. Each lent to slightly different results, but both wonderfully good. With all of the goodness that butter brings, these are heavenly. I have no doubt that I’ll be making more of these, soon!

Now, before we get going, I should say that this is another weight-only recipe. I know, I know. Not everyone has a scale. I threw these together one day, on the scale. Then, I made adjustments, on the scale. It’s how this sucker evolved. It’s what made me fall in love with it. When I had to make 48 cupcakes, I didn’t want anything to add to the time it would take.

PS – I’ve just about converted my mom to the weight method too. She’s starting to get why I’ve switched over, even converting old family recipes that way!

I know. This photo doesn’t tell you anything. (Besides “Working Together for You.). But, take my word for it, okay? They’re beautiful. And delicious. And yummy. And I’m using every wrong food blogging adjective. But that’s okay. Because today is my birthday. And this is fun. And I love these cupcakes. Everyone who has tasted one has too. (By my count, that’s about 100 people. Plus my family. We’ve eaten more than a couple too.)

I made a whole bunch of signs .

This was for my brother’s birthday. He’s a St. Patrick’s Day baby. I don’t know if you’ll read this bud, but I’m happy I’m your sister. You’re growing up too fast though!

This has been one of the lovliest and craziest years.

We went to Europe. I saw the place where my ancestors lived.

I made a speech for the first time (well, the first time in six years).

I started the Kitchen Generation with some of my best friends.

I missed 3 1/2 months of school, but realized that stress isn’t worth it (remind me of this in a few years?).

I fell in love with baking by weight.

—

So here we go. Eighteen. It’s just beginning. April 20th, you’ve always been a good day to me. I hope when we meet again, it’s filled with joy and goodness and opportunities to bring joy and goodness.

Celiac Teen has been the best birthday gift I’ve ever given myself. In no small part due to you, dear readers. Thank you for all that you bring to my part of this wonderful online world.

Lots of love,
Lauren

Twitter, Facebook and Flickr.