We ended up having a lovely Christmas, though to tell the truth, it was the most simplest of celebrations, hardly worthy of note among other Christmases. I had some bad news from the south just a few days before the Solstice, and it really took some serious will power to pull Christmas out of my magician’s hat this year.
The most important date in my year of bonfires is December 2,1 but the date passed with barely a mention, certainly no fire. Instead, I was just able to force myself to get out of the house during the short daylight for a good walk/run to shake the heavy weight off my shoulders and to clear the complex cobwebs from my brain. With the greatest of effort, we got the Christmas tree up on Christmas Eve.
To add to the feeling of sadness, due to unforeseen circumstances concerning mail delivery, job payment, Northern bush planes and winter ice freeze-up, we hadn’t been able to get a grocery shipment in to Reliance since September. Our large pantry still looks great, filled to the brim with many types of processed foods that we inherit from Trophy Lodge every fall. Tidying the shelves makes for a fascinating experience, re-discovering obscure and random treats we would never ourselves purchase.
But this year we were down to the bottom of fresh food, and all those special Christmas-only baking items that never seem important in July when there are lots of planes, had no chance at all of getting here now this Christmas.
We had been able to get in onions, and with plenty of meat, I knew I could make a variety of savory delights, but the prospect of no homemade Nanaimo bars was almost enough to crush my Christmas spirit completely. No matter how deeply I dug in the pantry, I could not find the ingredients to even come up with a new variation. Thankfully, I learned a new word, which gave me courage. Sisu, Finnish for having an indomitable spirit, and in the face of overwhelming odds, rise up and keep on going in an almost Zen-like state of determination to succeed. This sisu must be a Northern people’s trait, because I found that same will rising up in me. Despite it all, we were going to have Christmas treats. Staring at the pantry shelves, I tried to find a place of mental creativity where new ideas for preparing desserts would come to me.
My favorite game out here in Reliance is to play Chopped Canada: Northern Bush Version and I was facing a hard challenge now. I also love reading cookbooks, and an old 1938 copy of Five Roses Flour: A Guide to Good Cooking was my choice to guide me this cooking season. I chose it because it is a Depression era book full of ideas on how to make something out of nothing.
Sorely missing the delicate thin Nanaimo bars which I have perfected even beyond my Mother’s, I needed to create a very special cake that would help soothe my wounded Christmas spirit.
I closed my eyes and dreamed for a moment, and with the sparkle of a true kitchen witch, the spell for a Cherry Chocolate Marzipan cake came to my mind. Keeping the vision in my head, magically, a half a jar of no-name maraschino cherries became a cherry cream filling. Two teaspoons of the bottle of never used almond flavouring added to an extravagant 3 egg sponge cake recipe from the old cookbook made the perfect fake-marzipan cake. Because I wanted to make this a beautiful cake full of good wishes, I sprinkled in several tablespoons of precious poppy seeds. Careful folding, baking, cooling, filling and icing with a deep chocolate frosting took me several hours of concentration.
The first bite and my eyes rolled in delight! Crown me the Queen Bush Kitchen Witch! My cooking spells are real and I challenge anyone to a duel! The cake was magical because I was instantly transported back to that Christmas a few years ago when we had gotten in a big Christmas order from Weaver and Devore and those thoughtful gentlemen had packed for us a kilogram of delicious foil-wrapped marzipan Christmas chocolates.
How I wish that all of our dreams and wishes could come about with such ease as my delicious cake. Sitting here enjoying another slice with a cup of Earl Grey tea, I am visualizing good things for 2018. It may take sparks of brilliance along the way but I believe if we can dream of simple solutions, with a bit of creativity and hard work, together we can make good things happen. Maybe it is a naive hope, but without hopes and dreams, life would be unbearable.