crack the plates

After a week or so of mild temperatures, Richmond is once again covered in a thin blanket of snow. Looking through some old pictures today I happened upon a few from this time 2009–and a day, in particular, when I introduced my northeastern-Pennsylvania-housemate and my upstate-New-York-bred-boyfriend to a recipe direct from some of my fondest childhood memories: snowcreme. A cotton-candy-sweet mixture of fresh snow, (soy)milk, a little sugar, and a pinch of vanilla extract, all whipped up in a stainless steel bowl, snowcreme is the finest confection old man winter can offer. Behold!:

I emphasize my friends’ places-of-origin because I was so baffled by their lack of awareness of something I, a Southerner with extremely limited snow experience, so delightfully cherished. For truly, my familiarity with the stuff only extended so far as the infamous Blizzard of 1993 (which has its own wikipedia page) and fewer than a handful of other pathetic dustings. My ever-clever momma taught me about snowcreme when the blizzard hit, seeking, as she might have been, a way to distract the six restless nine-year-old girls who’d just been snowed in at my birthday party. (Yeah, the biggest meteorological event of the decade happened a day after my ninth birthday.) How could two people who grew up with seasons of snow year after year never think to whip it up in a big bowl with some cold milk, sugar, and vanilla? Heavens to betsy! I exclaimed, in my mom’s accent, I’ve got to teach these boys something!

Ever the inappropriately under-dressed, over-confident belle, I trotted out to the back porch in one of my more laughable get-ups: thin pink nightgown over pumpkin-print pajama pants, protected by a red WECI hoodie. I harvested the primo first layer of fluffy snowdust from the back-porch railing, even as new snow continued to come down. (Protip: There’s a narrow window between when the snow falls and when it gets soggy, hardened, and yucchy–so time your collection well.) Befuddled onlookers snapped shots of my work from behind the screen door:

harvesting snow

at work

As you can see in the picture, I did some of the work with the snowcreme on the back porch, feverishly whisking the snow into a sweet soymilk and vanilla base. By the time I got back in the house it was ready to be served.

I can’t quite remember how my housemate & boyfriend described their first experience, but I’m pretty sure the words “transcedent” “miraculous” “glorious” and others from their heavenly ilk flowed like honey in the kitchen conversation that day. And it didn’t hurt that I’d just made some of Isa’s pumpkin oatmeal cookies from Vegan With a Vengeance, either…

Zoomie (my housemate) delighting in cookies

…or that I decided to make a chocolate-mint version of snowcreme with Vitasoy’s Chocolate Peppermint holiday soymilk:

Lucky housemates. The feast:

Snowcreme recipe, veganized:

• Whisk some soymilk (vanilla, chocolate, or peppermint!) in the bottom of a large stainless steel bowl with a little organic vegan sugar and a dash of vanilla extract
• Go get some snow. Preferably light, fluffy, and fresh. Scrape it off into the bowl. Whisk til the mixture thickens. Grab a stainless steel spoon and start to do more stirring, less whisking. Add a bit more milk as necessary. Eat!!

First, the most important news: our katze Unix seems to be doing much better today than she has since the fleabath incident Sunday night. (Worrisomely, she’d put her appetite on hold and would mew loudly every time we touched her). She’s in fine furry form tonight, though, and is currently sitting in my lap encumbering my typing. And oh, how soft and flea-free her tortoiseshell fur is! (Alas, we’ll still be heading to the V-E-T in the morning.)

Tonight’s dinner was generously provided by friends N & J in celebration of Nate’s upcoming birthday. As a special surprise, they prepared some sushi–Nate’s favorite–with avocado, carrot, and cucumber. (I brought over the materials to make a quick miso–red miso paste by Westbrae, cellophane noodles from Jungle Jim’s, japanese-style firm tofu, two cloves of garlic sliced thin and some kombu kelp.) Observe the taller N coach the shorter one on the wily ways of sushi:

Those are taller N’s in the foreground (second picture). Little N…well, let’s just say he could do with a little more larnin’:

But hey, who am I to judge? I didn’t even try! On that note…

In the interest of full disclosure (because this blog ought not be about my triumphs only, but about my royal struggles too), I will admit that I f-ed up not one but TWO desserts tonight. I fail so comprehensibly so infrequently that it is quite marvellous that I was able to do it twice in one evening. Still, I admit: I ruined some rice pudding by using short-grain BROWN rice and not cooking it through; mere minutes after wiping the apron of this masterpiece, I whipped up some chocolate pudding that didn’t set because my arrowroot was so expired it had completely lost its potency. Oops?

Le sigh.

Hope you’ll check out tomorrow’s update on cooking for Peace Forum: butternut squash soup that isn’t (DUN DUN DUN) …pureed!!! Better yet, just come have lunch! Tomorrow’s talk: “One Hill at a Time: Supporting Palestinian Nonviolent Resistance at Al Tuwani.”