The Witch’s Book of Days (Kozocard, Owens and North), has a very Celtic tone to it, but I did love reading about today, the 31st of October.
“On this day, be aware of your personal totem as your “ally” and personal guide. This is whatever totemistic guide you have most resonated to, who has most helped and assisted your path. This day is given a blank rune, “Odin”, signifying unlimted potential, wide open possibilites, the blank canvass on which to paint, the sum of all totalities. The Ogham symbol is Koad, meaning Grove and signifying the sum of all knowledge, past present and future.”
My search for a Soul Mate is slowly rev’ing back up again … this seems like a good day to strart giving it some of my attention again.
My own DayBook entry earlier last month (September 22nd) described the Mid-Autumn Festival or Moon Cake Festival, celebrated in Japan, China, Vietnam and other places, and it was at that time that I ordered my first-ever Moon Cake mold. Have never made a moon cake in my entire life, but there’s no time like the present, even if I had missed the actual day of the Festival.
I love it when things work the way they’re supposed to, as that so rarely happens. The first step was to “season” the mold itself, which was made out of wood. And how does one do that? Well, the old me would have sprinkled some salt and pepper on it for “seasoning”, but I’ve come a long way since my early Jessica Simpson, “Hi, I’m a walking idiot!” days. I have a cast iron skillet now. I know what “seasoning” is, when it comes to cast iron skillets, and I was right. “Soak in oil for two days.” said the instructions.
Did so. In any event, the oil soak brought out all of the beauty of the wood, and I had the most gorgeous moon cake mold drying out on my counter … so beautiful I almost didn’t want to use it. But I did.
The wonder of “You-Tube” is never more evident than when you sit mesmerized, watching 10 separate videos of Chinese women babbling away happily in Cantonese, demonstrating the fine art of making moon cakes in their kitchens while you gasp in admiration, “Oh, THAT’S how you do it!” It looks so easy when they do it – even though you just know you’re going to end up with flour all over you, the ceiling, the floor, the bewildered cats, and bits of dough hanging from the light fixtures. Also, they put salted egg yolks in theirs, which I have no intention of putting in mine because it sounds so … yolky and salty.
And why is that? Let’s go to the experts! Okay, I don’t know any experts, so let’s Google it: Most moon cakes consist of a thin, tender skin enveloping a sweet, dense filling, and may contain one or more whole salted egg yolks in its center to symbolize the full moon. Very rarely, moon cakes are also served steamed or fried.
According to Wikipedia, “traditional moon cakes have an imprint on top consisting of the Chinese characters for "longevity" or "harmony", as well as the name of the bakery and the filling inside. Imprints of the moon, the Chang'e woman on the moon, flowers, vines, or a rabbit (symbol of the moon) may surround the characters for additional decoration.
Moon cakes are considered a delicacy; production is labor-intensive and few people make them at home. Hence, most prefer to buy them from commercial outlets, which may range from smaller individual bakery shops to high-end restaurants. The price of moon cakes usually ranges from US$10 to US$50 for a box of four, although cheaper and more expensive moon cakes can also be found.”
Woo-hoo!!!! My next occupation! Making Moon Cakes and charging $50 for four! I’d be rich in … (counting fingers) … so in one day, I could make … so, in one day I’d earn … okay, maybe not RICH, as in the “1% getting her ass justifiably kicked by the Occupy Wall Street people”, but …
And of course, this one will have to be an “invent my own recipe” version of a Moon Cake, mainly because I have no idea where to come up with a can of Lotus Seed Paste … even a Google search wasn’t much help. Of course, all the above mentioned Chinese women are cheerfully boiling Lotus seeds on their stoves and then mashing them like potatoes, as though everyone could just amble down to the local deli and ask for a pound of lotus seeds, no questions asked, no raised eyebrows, no “Say WHAT?!?” tossed at you by the stock boy at the Stop & Shop.
I did find a can of almond paste, so perhaps that will do, and I can have an “Almond Moon Cake”, which will shock any Chinese reader to no end, obviously …assuming I can tolerate the taste of “almond paste”, as I don’t believe I’ve ever had any. And I found some freshly grated frozen coconut at an Indian grocery store over at Shawsheen Plaza
Later: Yummy!! Actually, I’m sure a line of Chinese women would spit it out and howl “Phooey!” (or whatever it is they yell when confronted with a taste they weren’t expecting), but since I have no idea what lotus seed paste or red bean paste taste like … I had to go with the almond paste. Mixed that with grated coconut, chopped almonds and chopped dates, and it was actually yummy.
However, I’m going to have to grade this a 50/50 attempt. The mold worked. (yay!) And by “worked”, I mean I could remove the cake once I’d pressed the dough and filling into the mold, and then toss it proudly on a cookie tin. However, maybe someone who is gifted at making Moon Cakes could answer these questions: by about the fourth cake, the impressions from the mold were getting more and more faint, as the carvings in the mold were filling with moist flour. And two, I suspect the yolk wash recipe was a tad off, as it was a thick wash and brushed away what impressions were left. (The wash I used: one yolk, 1 teaspoon sesame oil). And I used a basting brush – was that too strong?
Still, it’s always fun to learn new things.
Since Massachusetts
Shortly after that, there were several huge crashes, as large tree branches came down directly in front of my living room window … (*sigh*) … and we finally got the power on sometime around 4 or 5 a.m. Went back to sleep.
Awakened at this morning with horrible tendon cramps in BOTH legs, pulling my feet up towards my shins, and if you don’t think that was godawful screamingly painful, think again. I literally started howling “Help me!” because I had no idea how to get rid of the cramps, and couldn’t stand on either leg, because both feet were twisted to the side and pulled up … I ended up massaging them for a good fifteen minutes, while crying my eyes out from the pain. This was followed by three to four hours of ankles feeling so weak and stiff and sore they felt like I’d twisted both of them. I’m going lame, aren’t I?
But it was par for the course – this week has been hell. I spent Saturday morning at Lawrence General Hospital
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