Happy Birthday Mary

Shay is playing "the toe game" with Orange Cat, an activity both find endlessly amusing. The object is for the cat to nip one of his toes before he can pull it back and OC often wins. It's his kind of game.
He's a very social cat but not a lap cat. He'll let me pick him up and nuzzle him for a bit but he only tolerates it for awhile before he starts squirming to get down.
What he really loves is lying at my feet when I'm on the computer with his big head wedged into the toe of my sneakers. Being around feet seems to soothe him. And oddly enough, he seems to understand that my toes are not playing. Even though they're dangling there in tooth reach, he leaves them alone.
I inherited Orange Cat from my sister. I wasn't looking to add another animal to my menagerie. I live in an apartment where there's a $500 deposit for each animal, and I already had one illegal cat because moving into the place exhausted my resources and I didn't have an extra $500 to put into a black hole. (I've been here almost 7 years now. In Virginia, landlords have to pay interest on money deposited as deposits. Not so in California.)
I had every intention of finding OC a home as I'd found homes for my sister's tortoise and iguana and snakes and other five cats.
But you know what they say about making plans.
Today is my sister's birthday.
If she were still around, I'd make her a cake with brown-sugar and coconut broiled icing.  (She and I shared a love of coconut that no one else in my circle seems to have.)
Instead, I'll celebrate her birthday by loving her cat and giving him one (or two) of the special tuna treats you can buy at PetCo. They're like kitty crack.  (Yes, I'm an enabler.)  And I'll smile when I see him playing the toe game.

Now you know--Candy Corn Facts

My friend Roz loves food history and today she sent this from howstuffworks:

Candy corn has been around for more than a century. George Renninger of the Wunderlee Candy Company invented it in the 1880s. It was originally very popular among farmers and its look was revolutionary for the candy industry. The Goelitz Candy Company started making candy corn in 1900 and still makes it today, although the name has changed to the Jelly Belly Candy Company.

Although the recipe for candy corn hasn't changed much since the late 1800s, the way it's made has changed quite a bit. In the early days, workers mixed the main ingredients -- sugar, water and corn syrup -- in large kettles. Then they added fondant (a sweet, creamy icing made from sugar, corn syrup and water) and marshmallow for smoothness. Finally, they poured the entire mixture by hand into molds, one color at a time. Because the work was so tedious, candy corn was only available from March to November.

Today, machines do most of the work. Manufacturers use the "corn starch molding process" to create the signature design. A machine fills a tray of little kernel-shaped holes with cornstarch, which holds the candy corn in shape. Each hole fills partway with sweet white syrup colored with artificial food coloring. Next comes the orange syrup, and finally, the yellow syrup. Then the mold cools and the mixture sits for about 24 hours until it hardens. A machine empties the trays, and the kernels fall into chutes. Any excess cornstarch shakes loose in a big sifter. Then the candy corn gets a glaze to make it shine, and workers package it for shipment to stores.

For more information, go here to howstuffworks.

Barefoot Contessa's Chocolate Cake Recipe

I was the bellaonline.com site's "Chocolate editor" for more than a year. Somehow, I never ran across Ina Garten's chocolate cake recipe until a friend made it for a dinner party. I watched him make it--pouring coffee into the batter and turned up my nose. I don't like coffee. Not at all.  And I was skeptical of the texture of the batter, which was remarkably soupy.
And then it came out of the oven, a deep, dark, luscious cake with no hint of coffee flavor.
And then there was icing.
The Barefoot Contessa's Chocolate Cake recipe is pretty much the best chocolate cake recipe ever.
Ever.
I'm thinking about it because it's a good friend's birthday today and he really loves chocolate. And because I love him, I see a chocolate cake in his future.
If you're too old for trick or treat but want a treat anyway, check out the recipe. Ina has thoughtfully provided it online here.
If you want a nice little extra touch--instead of flouring the cake pans, use sugar. 

Halloween Cat

Photograph by Tomer Kori

When I was 15, my father retired from the army and the family moved to Richmond, Virginia. It was a bit of a culture shock after living in Germany and France, and entering a high school where everyone had known each other since the first grade was a bit daunting.  Still, I'd been "the new girl" at nine other schools by that time, so after the usual period of adjustment, I settled into a routine.
 Living on an army post is a lot like living in a small town. (Both my grandmothers lived in REALLY small towns, so I know what I'm talking about.) And while Richmond is not a small town, it still had a small-town sensibility in those days, which was both good and bad. The first October 31st we lived there was crisp and cold and there was a full moon with scudding clouds that crossed it every once in awhile. Perfect Halloween weather. (Here in Los Angeles, October is often hot. In fact, a couple of years ago, we had triple digit weather the whole month. THE WHOLE MONTH.)

Chocolate Chess Pie for the Soul

It’s almost Halloween, which means the candy holiday season is beginning and chocolate cravings are waking. Instead of mainlining Three Musketeers bars this year, why not get your choclate fix from a dense, dark, and deeply delicious piece of chocolate chess pie?

If you’re not from the south, you may not have heard of “chess” pies, which are single-crust pies with translucent fillings.  (Think of a pecan pie without the pecans and you’ll have an idea of the consistency of a chess pie.)  They’re rather plain-looking pies but the fillings are so rich and satisfying that just a small wedge will satiate even the most ravenous sweet tooth. 

Leftover chess pie is also quite good served cold for breakfast.

Chocolate Chess Pie

1 ½ cups granulated sugar

1 heaping tbsp. flour

1 ½ blocks of unsweetened baking chocolate

Pinch salt

½ cup milk (skim is fine)

2 eggs, beaten

1 tsp. vanilla extract

½ stick butter

1 unbaked 10-inch pie shell.

Mix the sugar, flour and salt.

Melt butter and chocolate.

Add the eggs and milk to the dry ingredients.

Add the chocolate/butter mixture and mix well.

Add the vanilla extract.

Note:  If you like, you can substitute 2 heaping tablespoons of unsweetened cocoa powder for the melted chocolate.  If you do that, simply mix the cocoa powder in with the other dry ingredients.

Pour into the unbaked pie shell.

Bake at 375 for 40 to 45 minutes. 

The filling may crack a little in the middle, that’s normal and will just tell people it’s home-made.

Chess pies come in buttermilk and lemon as well as chocolate but it goes without saying that the chocolate version is the best!

Free Download--Here Be Monsters

Just in time for Halloween, Here Be Monsters, eight tales of vampires, werewolves, demons, zombies and other horrors. The anthology includes the story "Figs" by Jeremy C. Shipp and you can find all the details on his blog.

Still bloodthirsty? Check out John Donald Carlucci's collection 11 Drops of Blood, eleven stories for 99 cents. That's nine cents a story--a bargain in any currency.

Patti Abbott has a new collection of fiction out from Snubnose Press called Monkey Justice. (The title story was originally printed in Dark Valentine with an illustration by Mark Satchwill.) You can find the book (only $2.99)  here.

And of course (shameless self-promotion), you can get my first collection, Just Another Day in Paradise free right now on Kindle and Smashwords.

Patti Abbott's Flash Fiction Challenge

Patti Abbott hosts some terrific flash fiction challenges and this one was irresistible. Choose any work by American artist Reginald Marsh and write a 1000-word story inspired by it.  II spent an excellent hour clicking through decades of Marsh's work. All of it was extremely evocative and lively. (See Sandra Seamans' blog about choosing her picture for the challenge.)  Here's a link to some of his work to give you an idea.  (The painting across the top of the page  reminds me a bit of my friend Joanne Renaud's work.)
The painting I finally chose, "Red Buttons," was painted in 1936 in egg tempera on board.  Coincidentally, it's now in the Huntington Library's collection, so one day soon, I can visit the original.

My story is called "A Friend in Need" and it's 992 words long.  If you go to Patti's site, you'll find links to the other stories participating in the challenge.

A FRIEND IN NEED

Nancy met Bea at Child’s Cafeteria when they both reached for the last piece of lemon meringue pie. “Let’s share it,” Bea suggested, and simple as that they were sitting at a table, talking like old friends.

Bea told Nancy she worked for an insurance company as a comptometer operator, making $28 a week, which sounded like a fortune to Nancy.

Nancy’s father ran a general store back in Ohio and delivered mail as a rural route carrier too. Gas was only ten cents a gallon but there were times when scraping together enough to fill the tank was hard because he let so many people run tabs at his store.

Nancy knew her parents were worried about her living in New York City, even though she was sharing a place with her cousin and her husband.

Nancy’s parents were one generation away from farm folk and had a deep suspicion of the big city.

Still, they knew the only work available to her in Ohio was back-breaking farm labor and they didn’t want that for their only child. Nancy had skills. She could type-write and she knew Gregg shorthand.

They were sure she’d be able to find employment in New York, so they sent her off with their blessing and $48 they’d saved up.

Her father had also sent her off with the admonition to stay away from Harlem—“No good can come of associating with colored people,” he’d told her—and her mother had added her own, vague warnings to avoid “mashers” and “men who only want one thing.”

Bea had laughed when Nancy imitated her mother’s warning about men, and taken another bite of the pie.

“How fast can you type?” Bea asked.

“Seventy words a minute,” Nancy replied proudly. She could actually type a lot faster but if she did, the keys started jamming.