Pear-Cranberry Lattice-Top Pie

I present to you my last (but definitely not the least) baked creation for the year 2012.

This beautiful lattice-topped pie came about, in part, because I had received a giant box full of juicy, red pears as a gift. Not a bag. Not a basket. A BOX full of, honestly, the most delicious pears I've ever eaten in my life. Not kidding. So for about a month I've been eating pears every single day. Mid-afternoon craving? Got a pear. A commercial break? Got a pear. Bored out of my mind? Got a pear.

Don't judge. They were tiny pears. They were friggin addictive.

The pie was baked, in other part, because my cousin Sam was visiting, and he really, really wanted a pie. I may yell at him, call him names, make fun of him, hit him, kick him, and tell him what to do, but I love my oppa. He's the best. So of course I had to bake him a pie.

Two pies, actually. An apple pie and a pear-cranberry pie.

It's like Sam won the genetic lottery for ridiculously kind and generous pie-baking cousins.

Apple Pie

Today's post is dedicated to my cousin Sam. 

My oppa is the boss, the shiznit, the crazyman who's tearing through the streets of LA yelling obscenities. He is also whom I have labeled my "inferior cousin," because it's crystal clear who came from the better end of the gene pool. I definitely have the better brain- that's for certain. I also have the better boobs.

Sam is a Marine- of the few and the proud Marines, just so you know. (He'd appreciate the clarification.) Sam is also 6 feet tall even, smart when he wants to, and strange all the time because that's just how he operates. No one really knows what's in that brain of his, unless he tells you himself. But then again I'm not really sure if he knows what's in his brain.

My cousin Sam is also an absolute sweetheart. He laughs like he means it, and he gives these huge, awesome bear hugs that I love. He spoils you silly and is nice enough to listen to you blab about a stupid boy. Usually after 20 minutes of your ranting he'll only take 2 seconds to come up with an answer, and the really amazing thing is that he turns out to be right all along. Dang it.

What can I say? My cousin is an adult who's forever a kid at heart. He's brave and loyal and fierce and makes mission impossible, possible. He'll annoy the heck out of you then tell you to lighten up, which you probably needed to do anyway.

He's terrible at responding to texts, but he loves anything I bake, so I deal with it. He has also promised not to intimidate/threaten/beat up the guys I date, so I'm really proud of the progress he's made so far. It's been a long, tough road to this gem of a realization.

This is his "You talking about me?" face.

This year he visited post-Christmas with his girlfriend and we went to the aquarium. It was so entertaining to watch him stare at the piranhas. See, I went to stare at Nemo and the jellyfish like a normal person.

I asked him what he wanted as a Christmas/New Year's gift, and he told me he really really wanted a pie. That pies are his favorite, that he can finish a whole pie by himself, that he doesn't care what kind of pie it is as long as it is PIE. Okay, okay, I said, I'll bake you pies.

In fact, I baked him TWO pies: an apple pie, and a pear-cranberry pie. And you know what? I could've baked him a hundred more.That's how extra extra special this crazy person is in my family.

Dear oppa, if you're reading this, I want you to know that I'm not going the route of a corny "I love you" message. Instead I want to you read the rest of this post and admit that I'm the superior cousin. We're settling this debate once and for all. My pies are proof.

But still...you rock.

...and FINE. I love you. Crazy person.

Christmas Cake 2012

What's a particularly important holiday for you?

For some of my Indian friends, it's beautiful Diwali, the Festival of Lights.  For others, it's Ramadan or Rosh Hashanah or a day of national and cultural importance, like Chuseok for us Koreans or the Chinese New Year or the Fourth of July for the good ol' U.S. of A.

I consider Easter my favorite, but Christmas comes a close second. Although lately I've been disappointed by how Christmas is characterized these days by the words that accompany it, like "present" or "tree" or "dinner" or "sale." Christmas is about Christ. That shouldn't be jeopardized by any parade or a giant sale at Macy's.

So, as special of an occasion this was, I wanted to bake a cake to match it.

I tried my hand at a two-tiered cake for the first time. I was being impulsive and stubborn and overly ambitious and waaaaay in over my head. AND I didn't give myself enough time to practice and study beforehand. Typical, stupid me. 

Long story short, my cake turned out barely all right, but I learned the hard way that cake projects should not be underestimated. For example, you don't mess with the top layer after it's been set and secured. You just don't, because it will make the cake lopsided. Also, planning means sitting your butt down and drawing the dang thing out and figuring out batter amounts, frosting type, jam, etc. Not going with it. Not for Christmas, nuh-uh.

Thank God the cake tasted delicious, otherwise I would've been devastated.

I don't want to read "That looks fine to me" comments here. I'm too embarrassed to post a side pic of Jesus's birthday cake this year. Please let's agree to trust me on this one.

Many apologies for the lack of detailed picture-by-picture instructions on how to make Swiss meringue buttercream and how to stack a two-tiered cake. I promise next year's cake will be wonderful. I also guarantee you many more cake projects in 2013.

Despite everything, though, it's a great day. Jesus, I'm glad you came to us. I'm flawed in small and big ways, yet you remain as perfect as ever.

Merry, merry Christmas indeed.

Dorie Greenspan's Sables (Basic Sugar Cookies)

I totally used to believe in Santa.

My mom had me and my brother write these wish lists for him a week before Christmas. We three would sit together and talk about where we would like to find the presents. If they are on the very bottom shelf of the bookcase on Christmas day, then that's it, it would be settled: Santa exists. And of course, Mom Santa would place our toy sets and Legos there with a nicely handwritten note about how we've been so good the entire year. Man, we loved Christmas.

I thought about asking the little ones at  my mother's church if they believed in Santa. Not to steal Jesus's thunder or anything, but just for fun. In the end, though, I decided better against it. I really did not want to be the stupid fool who interrupted them in the middle of Angry Birds. Plus I had this feeling they would stare at me like I was the weirdest grown-up ever, talking to them about Santa when they have clearly moved onto 1st grade.

Kids are so smart these days, they have to see things in order to believe it. Kids are so scary these days, they'll tell you what they like and what they would like to have now.

This Christmas, they wanted cookies.

Ginger Icebox Shortbread Cookies

What I'm about to discuss today has nothing to do with ginger shortbread cookies whatsoever. But I want to talk about it, so leave me alone.

I want to talk about couples who make out in public.

Uh-huh. You read that right.

The most intense couple award goes to these two kids from my high school who found the space and time to lock lips during crowded locker breaks. The guy was a wrestler (I think) so he had these massive arms that bulged out of his already tiny T-shirts. He also looked like he was ready to bench press some serious weight at any given moment. Anyway, when classes dismissed and the halls filled with all of us trying to get places, he would lift his tiny girlfriend by the waist, slam her against the top lockers (ouch!), and proceed on with their business. Naturally it was very awkward trying to get my geometry book from two lockers over.

But the most memorable couple award goes to the kids who were making out smack dab in the- get THIS- middle of a 4-way stop at the park. In front of the Senior Center, no doubt. I'm sorry, but I'm having trouble understanding how that's even remotely romantic. I mean, if that's what floats your boat, then sure...but in front of folks who are getting ready for their ballroom dance night? If someone else gets this, by all means please let me know.

Gingerbread Snacking Cake

I've been trying to figure some stuff out.

What are my post-graduation plans?  What does it mean to be friends with somebody?  How does one find a good, God-focused church? What is behind the mysterious bonding process that allows some people to just "click" and others to merely nod and walk away?

What does "peace" on the Korean peninsula look like? Will peplum still be a trend next year? Is it an obdurate effort that keeps you in love with someone for many years after you've fallen in love with them? How do I get my mom to stop freaking out about my (lack of a) love life? Which brand sells a good BB cream? Do I even need BB cream? Should I set aside a year to travel, learning Spanish and taking pictures of baguettes in Paris and drinking tea in Hong Kong...get away from everything here?

....and on and on and on and on. You get the gist.

As I'm baking I tend to shut out the outside world. I retreat into my mental space where I pull and twist and tug on all these ideas inside my head...or sometimes I don't think about anything at all.

My 20s is turning out to be topsy-turvy and all of crazy and complicated and messy and unpredictable. Just like everyone else's 20s, I suppose.

I'm just mixing cake batter and sprinkling powdered sugar and seeing where it all goes.