Apparently, I don't hate baking, and Happy Feast of St. Nicolas!

We had some friends over yesterday to decorate gingerbread cookies, and it was a fun-filled morning that was also full of sprinkles, candies, snowy-white frosting. It was one of the mornings where we had so much fun that I forgot to take pictures...sorry about that.

After everyone left, however, I went a little crazy and decorated the remaining cookies to take to church tonight for the kids to enjoy while the adults have a progressive dinner party. You know what? It was fun. I really dreaded it, but I had the best time. I felt so creative and, well, capable. That's not a feeling I usually get from handling a pastry bag. So, here are the results:

Now, why the gingerbread? you may be asking. Today, December 6th, is the Feast of St. Nicolas, and children all over Europe are exchanging gingerbread cookies in honor of the Saint who loved the spicy little morsels so much that he gave them to people wherever he went. In return, St. Nicolas the modern-day legend is filling their shoes with candy and presents. Beware, however, of Père Fouettard (Father Whipper), St. Nick's counterpart who travels with him carrying a bundle of switches for the not-so-nice children. And you thought threatening kids with coal in their stocking was effective!

So...take some time to be generous today! Whether it be cookies or simply your time, St. Nick's legacy is that of giving of oneself to others. Have a great day!

Escarg...oh, no, you didn't! or "Them's snails!"

One of my most favorite scenes from Little House on the Prairie was when Mr. Edwards and Charles were eating in a "fancy" restaurant in one of those big cities they always visited for business. They decide to order something really nice, and the waiter suggests the escargots. The men order their "es-car-gots" and when the little morsels arrive at the table, both men are outraged--"Why, them's snails!" they shout as they leave the restaurant in a fury.

I went on a cruise with my husband's family last weekend to celebrate his lovely grandmother's 80th birthday. It was the first cruise for our family of three, and we were told before leaving that we should be prepared for the wonderful food. Guess what? It was wonderful, and there was plenty of it. On the menu for our formal dinner evening I did spy something that always makes me giggle, and well, gag--the incredibly luxurious escargots bourguignon. Them's snails, for us simpletons.

I feel like I have a pretty adventurous pallet, but personally I find a plate of snails, excuse me, escargots, to be one of the most vile dishes I have ever tried to eat. They taste like grass and dirt. What about the delectable garlic butter sauce, you say? Well, I would prefer to eat that on something not disgusting like pasta or vegetables. I may even prefer to eat that on actual grass and dirt rather than consuming an escargot.

So, back to the cruise. I am a Frenchie-Francophile (that means "lover of France" for those of you raising your eyebrows) who has actually lived in France and has been served "escargots done right" and I can imagine no greater punishment than being forced to eat a plate of smelly, once-slimy creatures swimming in fat, garlic, and herbs. My brother-in-law (a very cool guy, by the way) ordered the escargots as his appetizer. He won't eat a fresh tomato, but he will eat a plate of slugs in sauce. I don't get it. Is it the luxe factor? I have a theory on that.

I think it went something like this: Two con men are walking through the woods searching for provisions for their next meal. One looks down at the ground and inspiration strikes. "Hey! Remember how we tricked that emperor into walking around naked? Well, there's plenty of snails here--let's see if we can get the rich people in town to eat them! Get out the garlic butter and herbs!"

It couldn't possibly be that someone saw it as a good idea. Who would seriously look down at the ground and say, "Check out the slime trail that thing's leaving! Looks like good eats to me! Quick, get the garlic butter and herbs!"

Oh oui, Somewhere out there is a dead Frenchman who is laughing hysterically saying, "I so wasn't serious about that! You're not really going to eat those are you???" With a French accent, of course.

An actual escargot de bourgogne. (Apparently a homeless escargot.)
This picture was taken in 1998 in the woods near Autun, France in the region of Burgundy.
Amazingly I was able to take this shot without succumbing to the urge to reach down, snatch him up and eat him.