Tag: Great British Bake Off

#77 – Giant’s Causeway

I’m currently watching the newest season of The Great British Bake Off, and it is bringing back wonderful memories from my childhood, thanks to one special contestant – Iain Ross. Iain is from Belfast, Northern Ireland, and his Irish charm reminds me of my trip to Ireland as a kid. He reminds me of the people I met, including my family members who live in County Antrim. He reminds me of my grandma, Florence, and my Gormley family tree. But I also remember the wonder of exploring this place called Ireland (and Northern Ireland) as an 8-year-old kid, who heard the legends of the places we saw, and found the stories truly magical.

Now, for political reasons, I wasn’t able to see Belfast due to some tensions around Orangemen’s Day. But there were lots of other cities and sites were got to see. There were stories of Dunluce Castle’s kitchen falling into the sea during a party. That was probably true. There are the ruins of tall towers, made to hide in safety from Viking raids, and also historical. But then there were the stories that lean into the fantastical, like the story of Finn MacCool and the Giant’s Causeway.

I had forgotten about the magical origin story of Giant’s Causeway until Iain turned the story into a pastry sculpture for the showstopper round. Finn MacCool, also known as Fionn ma Cumhaill in Gaelic, led a band of mythical warriors called the Fianna. Now, a giant Finn was in a rivalry with another giant in Scotland called Benandonner. To reach him, Finn created the causeway on the coast of County Antrim, which faces Scotland’s coast across the Irish Sea. When Finn saw how big Benandonner, standing in the distance across the sea, Finn decided this might not be a wise idea. Instead, Finn fled to his house, where he hatched a clever plan. He asked his wife Oonagh, to help him hide himself under a blanket, to disguise himself as a baby. Benandonner passed across the sea on the causeway, determined to settle the fight with Finn. He knocked on the door, but instead of Finn, he was greeted by Oonagh and a rather large sleeping baby, which Oonagh introduced as her son, Oisin. This terrified Benandonner. What could his father look like if this were the size of the baby? Benandonner fled back to Scotland, thwarted by the cleverness of Finn MacCool. In his haste, Benandonner ripped up the Causeway so that remnants only remain on the coast of Antrim, at the Giant’s Causeway site, and on the Scottish island of Staffa at the Fingal’s Cave site.

We know now that the hexagonal basalt rocks are evidence of volcanic eruptions that formed the Causeway in Ireland, but isn’t the creativity of my ancestors better? This story is one of my favorites. I may have been able to see through Santa Claus, but this filled me with the possibilities of a land where giants and magic roamed, and it filled me with a sense of wonder to exist in this place of extraordinary things. That’s what I began to explore in Udal Cuain and what continues to bring me back to Halloween every year – Samhain. The original celebration from Ireland.

Have you ever been to Giant’s Causeway? Did you know about the myth, and what do you think of it?

Sources:

https://giantscauseway.ccght.org/history-and-folklore/

https://giantscauseway.ccght.org/geology/

CCGHT’s Mythological Landscape of the Glens of Antrim publication

Bring the Fall

I have been a bit lax with my writing lately, but I’m feeling inspired. The chill returns to the sunny blue sky, orange steeps upon the leaves, and the need to stay warm welcomes me back with open arms. I love fall. I love sweaters, flannel, corduroy, and denim. Getting dressed when the weather is crisp.

These are my favorite outfits, I’ve worn recently, using pieces I have sewn, thrifted, or upcycled. The only piece I bought new is the overalls, because I failed to make my own.

I’ve been getting into whimsy-goth style, like Practical Magic. I’ve been layering with sheer, with knit, and with textures. I’ve been drawn to brighter colors for the darker months. I’m trying to find the joy, before the year ends, and find a better way to end this challenging 2025.

So now that I have sat with my thoughts for months, finding my way out of the woods with my crafts, I am going to get chatty again!

I think what is bringing me the most excitement right now is kpop. Karma has been a wonderland. Chaeyoung of Twice’s solo release was Black Keys perfection. Nmixx new Blue Valentine era is thrilling, Red Velvet-esque, and the most exciting sryling I have seen from a girl group other than Twice in 2025. Taeyong is coming back from the military in December and I am beyond ready for punchy NCT to be back. It’s been 18 months of change and sadness since he left, we need the NEO king back. I’m also impatiently waiting for fellow NCT’s Yuta to release his full album at the end of October.

In other things, Mia is doing well and we are so bonded. It’s everything I hoped for! I’m excited for Saskie & Co’s second book to be released – Saskie Knits. I’d like to get my hands on both of her books. The Great British Bakeoff is back, and that has made for a lovely few weeks. I’m learning new crochet stitches, such as the waffle stitch and granny stitch. I can identify single crochet, half-double crochet, double crochet, and treble crochet stitches. I have also mastered using my yarn swift and ball winder!

I am faltering on my language learning, with a steep decline in practice sessions since June. But I have begun to hear the difference between Korean and Japanese. Even being able to identify a YouTube AI mishap where a kpop song had English subtitles with kanji appearing instead of hangul. By reading the Japanese, I concluded they did not match. I can also tell the difference in speech patterns between Korean and Japanese, identifying key grammar structures. So, I guess, if nothing else happens this year with my language learning, it is marinating up there and I am retaining it.

There have been some really trying personal things going on behind the scenes, that although I probably share too much on here, I can’t discuss. But I can say I have never felt more like I have been drowning than this year. As we head into fall though, I think the source of the stress is healing and I am grateful to be moving towards peace.

My last bit of good news is that I got a rebounder! Also known as a miniature trampoline for cardio. It is a blast. I can’t wait to get healthier and hold less tension in my body.

What exciting things are on your horizon?

2

My Spring 2025 Soundtrack

Turning grass into unearthed soil – The Tiller

Chirping – Robins

Battleground – Stray Kids

K.K. Oasis

A cut hitting rock – The Shovel

A trickle of water – The Rain Barrel

Staple Jam – The Upholstery Stapler

Cutting Fiberglass Screen – Utility Knife

Slingshot – Nmixx

Glug Glug – Watering Can

Coughing – Garden Tone

Disgust and Fear – The Big Earthworm

K.K. Adventure

My Place

Stalling on Tall Grass – The Mower

Booms that Shake My House – Tannerite from Reckless Community Members

Ice Cream Cake – Red Velvet

Cinema – Lee Know & Seungmin

Humming and Cool Air – The Window A/C

Shock and Gasp – Acid Reflux in the Middle of the Night

Great British Bake Off Theme

Know About Me – Nmixx

Buzzing of Bees

Mia Pulling on the Carpet – Bunny Teeth

Frustration, Fear, and Worry – Trump’s Non Stop Executive Orders

Autism Awareness Content – Fighting The RFK Jr Ignorance

#71 – Caramel

Luscious, warm, a decadent note that makes a dessert sing in perfect harmony. I used to crave this in candy bars, a Twix, or perhaps a scoop of Bruster’s Chocolate Turtle ice cream.

The Great British Bake Off opened my eyes to Banoffee Pie and the simple luxury of making a caramel without instructions. The process is a beautiful as the finished product. A melting sugar and butter, finished with cream.

The Caramel Macchiato taught me what coffee can do beyond ice cream sundaes and candy confections. It can be comforting, a delight to grab between classes, or an awful first job.

But how does one enjoy something they can not eat? I’ve been stumped on how to recreate this treat since my dairy-free lifestyle began, until I picked up a pint of dairy-free Phish Food from Ben & Jerry’s. It had the marshmallow fluff (which I discovered I could eat again this past winter) and ribbons of soft caramel. Caramel that tasted like the real thing.

I began to search for knowledge on blogs and Reddit until I found a recipe so simple I had to give it a try.

  • 1 can of coconut milk
  • 3/4 cup brown sugar
  • 1/4 tsp kosher salt

It was so simple. Melt the ingredients together on medium-low, then boil and reduce for 20 minutes. Let cool in a glass jar and store in the fridge. I made it last night and it was marvelous!

I found Vanilla Bean Oat Milk ice cream at the store for a sundae, and bam, I was a kid again, making an ice cream sundae with my grandparents on a summer evening.

What is a flavor that takes you home? Is there a food you haven’t had in a while that will comfort you in these trying times? Make it, your inner child will thank you.

#53 – Lemon Curd

In Portal 2, Cave Johnson has an iconic rant about lemons that may have been the inspiration for my Saturday plan – to make dairy-free lemon curd from scratch.

To clarify, no lemons were exploded. But they were zested, juiced, and combined into a luscious lemon sauce and baked into lemon bars. Tart, sweet, buttery, lemon bars.

“All right, I’ve been thinking, when life gives you lemons, don’t make lemonade! Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don’t want your damn lemons! What am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life’s manager!
Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am? I’m the man whose gonna burn your house down – with the lemons! I’m gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!”

-Cave Johnson, Aperture Laboratories

But why did Cave Johnson speak so deeply to my mood on Saturday morning, one of the best times of the week? Well my dysfunctional family, of course. Communication is truly an art form, and for some relationships, healthy communication seems as easy as replicating a Michelangelo masterpiece with a butter knife. I am a member of that club. I feel like sometimes a conversation with my mom is doomed from the start. I call her and there is something in the air. A mistaken tone she finds in me, a lack of matching her extroverted, neurotypical energy.

The inability to recognize drama or harshness in her tone. My anxiety and frustration at being accosted by questions, picking remarks, or in general still not living up to whatever I was supposed to. It’s a mess, a mess that continues to respawn after numerous attempts to get rid of this and live a drama-free life with the mom that I do deeply love even if sometimes I get exasperated at her. This was one of those conversations, I did something and the verbal missiles were locking on me, which was really disappointing because it was supposed to be a simple conversation – what time are you coming up to celebrate my husband’s birthday?

Instead, there was chaos, my confusion at why there was chaos with questions followed by accusations of trying to fight and being told I was being a problem, gaslit into the aggressor when I held my temper in check and just asked questions. There seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel. I was being baited into a fight and it sucked. It was a conversational sucker punch. Some weeks I don’t even want to pick up the phone, I yearn to move far away from the possibility of hanging out with her, because I just want to be loved not picked at. Being lonely but happy feels better than being close and miserable. I feel like she brings all the drama-ma-ma-ma-ma and then runs away from me after her work is done.

In the screaming silence that followed the nasty encounter, I felt confusion, anger, hurt, sadness, failure, shame, disappointment, a building pressure of anxiety and depression, and the complex childhood trauma memories flooding back of her gaslighting me into thinking I was a kid with an un-teachable spirit, a stubborn child who spirit needed to be broken because seeing things differently from her was a sin.

I feel sorry for my mom because none of those things are true, and keeping me at arm’s length hurts both of us. We only have so much time on this earth, wouldn’t it be better to be laughing instead of arguing, smiling instead of crying?

I’ve learned there is nothing wrong with me. I’m neuro-divergent and God made me this way for a reason. There is beauty in being different, but she can’t see that. She sees me as difficult, and I in turn see her as small-minded.

Recently, I’ve turned to baking when I feel down in the dumps. For a while, baking was quite painful for me, after Grandma passed away in 2020. She was the one who taught me how to bake and that void made baking a chore. Since watching the Great British Bake Off, I’ve found my baking delight once again. We had a bunch of lemons on hand for a separate recipe, and since the rest needed to be used, I decided to make something I’d never made from scratch before. Lemon curd.

They make it on Bake-Off and I used to love eating lemon bars and lemon meringue pie as a kid, it was Papa’s favorite pie. We had it each year on his birthday. It was the bomb. The tart, lemony sharpness of the filling with the pillowy sweet clouds of meringue on top, slightly browned like a marshmallow with a flakey crust. Scrumptious.

Fun fact: My grandma dressed, acted, and looked a lot like Mary Berry. Watching Bake Off is like a hug.

And you know what, baking helped. I felt the tension melt from my shoulders as I zested the lemons and squeezed the juice into the bowl. The delicacy of separating yolks from egg whites required me to slow down, to breathe through the emotional stress. I made a cup of herbal tea and began work on the sugar and butter. After combining it came time to use the bain-marie to slowly temper the eggs and cook until thickened. The result was a dreamy curd that I was hoping for!

Out of pain, something beautiful came, and the next day I made shortbread for the lemon bars and layered the golden yellow lemon sauce into the pan for a delight I hadn’t had since childhood. Next time we’ll make that lemon meringue pie.

I’m glad I’ve learned coping mechanisms like baking, cleaning, stimming, etc so that I am not tempted to rage at my mom, clench my jaw, get drunk, or go on a shopping spree to fill the pain with stuff. It’s been a journey but through my tumultuous twenties, I learned that the dysfunction is never going away but who I am and how I respond to it are not beholden to other people and their poor behavior. And that is true freedom.

Have you ever made lemon curd? Do you like lemon meringue pie or lemon bars? What’s your go-to way to calm down after a stressful encounter? Thank you, dear reader, for coming along on this blogging journey with me. I’m incredibly thankful for you.

#49 – Deactivating Facebook

In 2011, my senior year of high school, one of my close friends opted to not come back to our school for his final year and instead chose to do cyber school which meant, because of how much time he already spent working and playing a little game called war of warcraft, I was going to lose contact with him. Now, at the time, I had known this friend since we were toddlers, through church and later on school, it seemed too important to let that friendship fade into nothingness just because of change of life. I knew there was one modern way to stay connected, a way I dreaded and had put off as long as possible – Facebook. And so in 2011, I bit the bullet and got one.

I instantly regretted my decision.

All of a sudden my feed was filled with information overload in the way only social media can with details that honestly make you feel a bit insecure, like realizing, I knew I was a bit of an outsider at school but oh my, a lot of parties and social events were happening that weren’t on my radar that were now showcased page after page. Suddenly, the peace and tranquility of my quiet introverted life, one connected to people outside classmates, was gone. Poof. I felt a comparison. I felt lacking. I felt lame. A person missing the plot that everyone else got. Who were these people I thought I knew?

Was I doing this all wrong? Should I have more friends? The friend count, the status symbol of ye olde Facebook, some of my fellow friends had 1000s of friends and I was struggling to think of 100 people I knew well enough to add. The profile picture, the clever status updates, the albums upon albums of photos of normal days and things. What was this weird and aspirational world? And where did my feeling of contentment go? In an instant, it left me like a hat on a windy day.

I look back on this feeling and wish I had rolled the dice on keeping in touch through email or text because that friendship didn’t last once we entered college and went our separate ways, but those feelings of insecurity and comparison, they took root. Not just me, but I think all of us are waking up to this and how social media is stealing our joy and our world from what it can be.

After all, we know now that Facebook is a terrible way to keep friendships going, except we didn’t know that yet. I mean I think everyone over the age of 60 at the time knew it was not a replacement for having a social life, but we like intrepid explorers too cocky to listen to the warning that the river was going to turn into a waterfall went tally-ho onward into the mist and went over the waterfall. And now with our broken bits of boat and sputtering of water in our lungs, we see our friends float by us in the river and yet just like the metaphor, we are unable to link arms because the current of the algorithm is taking us where it wants to. Unhappy and alone, we arrived in 2024 and it was time for me to climb ashore.

I was watching the first season of the Great British Bake Off with Mary Berry, Paul Hollywood, Sue Perkins, and Mel Giedroyc, circa 2010 and I felt this overwhelming yearning to go back, back to 2010. Like this scene in Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice where Elizabeth sees Mr. Darcy appear in the fading mist of dawn.

I thought about this, why did I feel such a strong pull toward this time? I don’t particularly love the fashion of this period nor was it the most exciting time of my life, it was high school for goodness sake with the season of SATs and college applications. But it was strung together with moments of deep authenticity, real connections, and life spent living in real life instead of online. I spent my days with real people, not a screen with someone behind the screen talking to me. It was real and my world, with my people. I wasn’t worrying about FOMO or what other people were doing, I didn’t consider what other people were doing if I wasn’t there or how I should be spending my time compared to what other people were doing. I was just living. It was before social media had its claws into me and the world.

I remember the world being less performative, less homogenous, and more authentic. If someone was cool it was usually because they were doing their own thing and owning it. If someone was pursuing a hobby or a career it was because they had a passion for it, not for social media clout or to be like everyone else. Phones were for texts and phone calls, sometimes photos. At social events, particularly family events and meals, they stayed in your pocket.

If you were using your phone you were actively talking to someone. People knew things and retained information because Google wasn’t at the ready. You had to discuss and determine things through research, using a book or a computer. Photos existed in physical albums, in frames, on fridges, and in wallets. Body dysmorphia existed, but was less of a constant because in person you can’t Photoshop and filter, you have to accept who you are enough to be in person. Trips were shared through home movies, photos, and stories around a table with food and drink.

At that moment, I realized I was done. Done with pretending I like this fake world of connection. I separated my Instagram from my Facebook so that I could continue sharing photos to my Instagram sewing portfolio account, because that is for exposure not connecting, and deactivated my Facebook. I kept Messenger so that three specific people could still reach me and I hit that deactivate button. And I have to say, it felt like a fake haze lifted from my world. That chapter was done and I feel a peace washing over me again.

If it was as easy as leaving one social media platform, what other little swaps could I do to find those things that made the world feel so real and connected before the social media age? That is my next quest. Onward into normal, human connections!

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