As a teacher, I can tell you that we all have our private plans. Schools have bigger, more systemic plans, but we have private plans. Plans about throwing furniture, plans about overturning tables, plans about barring windows, plans about protecting. “What would I do if–?” has crossed all of our minds. To know that on Friday, some teachers had to put their own plans into action, the strategies they’d woven in the private depths of their imagination —
Well. It’s hard to know what to say. It’s hard to know how to say thank you, I’m sorry, I can’t believe it, what can I do?, and why?, and all of the other things we can’t put language to.
Since I don’t know how to say all of that, I’ll do what I do know how to do. I’ll tell you a story.
* * *
My first experience with teaching was as a student teacher in a summer school in inner-city Atlanta. To say that that was a rough way to start would be an understatement. My students came from home environments in which abuse and poverty were everyday realities. I had a class full of 8th grade girls whose personalities and needs varied considerably.
One girl inexplicably hated me with her entire being and made this clear during most of our interactions.
One girl vacillated between quiet anger and reluctant compliance.
One was realistic, practical, and blunt — qualities she had perhaps honed after having her own baby. She was ready to get on with getting educated and had no time to waste with silliness.
One girl, Marion, was a quiet preacher’s daughter. She barely said a thing throughout the month I taught the class.
Here I was, a middle-class white girl straight out of college. Sure, I could barely afford a suitable teaching outfit at the time, but standing in that classroom, I knew that my students knew hardship in a way that I didn’t understand.
There are many stories I want to tell you about what transpired — about the day the girl touched my hair wistfully, about the day I left my classroom in tears, about the day I bought the girls the wrong kind of cookies, about the day an administrator yelled at me and an entire bevy of those sweet girls unexpectedly stood up for me. But today I want to skip right to the end: the day they took the reading test that would determine whether or not they could continue on to high school.
We had been through a lot together to get to that moment, so I felt very close to the girls. But I saw something in them that day I hadn’t seen before: straight-up fear. It surprised me to see them huddling in the classroom, nervous about the test that they felt was deciding their future. I set to the task of encouraging, supporting, calming. I didn’t know it at the time, but I see now that I was already a teacher in my heart.
I’ll never forget the moment that my co-teachers and I looked over and saw every girl — even the one who hated my guts and, ostensibly, the guts of the world — standing around Marion. She had brought in her father’s absolutely enormous, worn Bible and was holding it in the center of the circle. Every girl had her hand resting on one edge of the well-loved book, her head bowed, and her eyes closed. Some lips moved along with Marion as she prayed aloud over them all. The overarching theme of her plea was, “God, please, please let us pass this test.”
You’re going to hate this, but despite the prayers, the extra #2 pencils, and the most heartfelt teaching I could muster, Marion didn’t pass her test. She came to me upon receiving her scores and asked if I would please write the school system and ask them to promote her, something I gladly did. She had more trouble with tests and test anxiety than she did with reading — a problem many students around the country face each year. But I’m not sure what they ultimately decided.
What Marion and her sweet classmates showed me that day — and really every day they showed up to class and earnestly put their pencils to paper — is faith. Can we have faith after things have gone wrong (tragically, devastatingly wrong)? I know one thing: it won’t be a reasonable faith. It will have to be the unreasoning, innocent faith of a child. One who just believes things can be okay again somehow, some way.
If you love Gooey Butter Cake, here’s a delicious holiday adaptation (with apologies to St. Louis). This Gooey Butter SPICE cake has the wonderful, warm flavors of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, brown butter, dates, and toasted pecans. It’s adorned with spiked cream and pretty sparkling cranberries. Enjoy it straight out of the skillet by a big fire, please!
Crust Ingredients:
1 cup cake flour
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/3 cup butter, cold
Filling Ingredients:
1 1/4 cups granulated sugar
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) butter, softened
1 egg
1 cup all-purpose flour
2/3 cup minus 2 tablespoons evaporated milk
2 tablespoons brandy
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 cup chopped dates
1 cup chopped toasted pecans (to toast, bake at 350 degrees F, tossing occasionally, for 4-6 minutes)
powdered sugar
Sparkling Cranberry Topping Ingredients:
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup water
2 cups fresh cranberries, room temperature
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar (some coarse sugar if you have it, and some regular, for rolling)
2 cups heavy whipping cream (with a glug of brandy mixed in, optional)
Directions: NOTE: If you don’t have a skillet, I believe you can bake this in a greased 9-inch square baking dish (I’d use a glass one if you have it, and check it early and often. Remove when there’s some jiggle left.) Let us know how it goes if you try it this way for all the other skilletless people!
Prepare the sparkling cranberries: Cook the 1/3 cup granulated sugar and 1/3 cup water together over medium-high heat until simmering (not boiling). Remove from the heat and let cool a couple of minutes so cranberries won’t burst. Pour in cranberries and mix to coat them. Spread the cranberries out on a cooling rack using a slotted spoon and let them dry for an hour, spreading them out as much as possible. Roll the cranberries in small batches in the coarse sugar first, and then in the regular granulated sugar to finish coating. Allow the cranberries to dry in a clean area at least 1 more hour. I prepared these the night before and let them dry, very lightly covered, overnight.
Brown the butter for your gooey butter cake filling: Put the 1 1/2 sticks of butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Melt it and heat until the butter begins to brown. Begin swirling so it will cook evenly. Brown it to a dark amber and then pour it out into a shallow dish. Stick this in the freezer to firm up a bit. When firm, set it out to soften slightly while you make the gooey butter cake crust.
Make the crust: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Whisk together cake flour and sugar in a medium bowl. Cut in the 1/3 cup butter with a pastry cutter or two knives until the mixture resembles fine crumbs and starts to cling together. Press the mixture into the bottom (this step is a lot harder than it sounds, but be patient and use the back of a spoon to help spread/press the mixture down. I also stuck mine in the fridge for a bit to make the butter less sticky) and up the sides of a 10-inch cast iron skillet.
Make the filling: In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg. In a separate large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until fluffy and pale yellow (about 2-3 minutes). Mix in the egg until just combined. Alternate adding the flour mixture and evaporated milk, mixing after each addition. Mix in the corn syrup, brandy, pecans, dates, and vanilla. Pour the filling into the crust and sprinkle the top with powdered sugar.
Bake and assemble the cake: Bake for 25 to 35 minutes or until cake is nearly set (mine was probably ready around 30). Some jiggle is fine — do not overcook! It’ll finish setting up as it cools. Let it cool in pan for 2 hours. In the meantime, beat heavy cream to stiff peaks (with a glug of brandy if you’d like). Pile heaps of freshly whipped cream into the center of your cooled, set gooey butter cake, garnish with a few sparkling cranberries, and serve.
The teacher across the hall from me is named Julie as well. My last name is Ruble. Hers is Reulbach. We’re both have long, blonde hair and blue eyes. We’re the same height. We both blog and tweet. We’re both energetic (read: spastic) in the classroom. It’s easy to get confused.
When I saw Julie’s post on her amazing math education blog, I Speak Math, yesterday, I knew I had to write a copycat post. Her post was “A Day in the Life” post, written as part of Drawing on Math‘s initiative to show what teaching really entails. I’m not a math teacher, but I loved the idea. So here it goes.
A Day in the Life of a Language Arts Teacher
6:00 am – I wake up, stick some oatmeal in the microwave, and jump in the shower.
6:20 am – I dry my hair, doctor up my oatmeal and finally take the dog out to potty. I rush her and feel bad, but it’s hard to tell if she’s dawdling or really has to go.
6:45 am – I respond to a few emails and check the schedule while eating my oatmeal, taking my medicine, and throwing my dog’s bone a few times, hoping she’ll feel like I’ve spent some quality time with her.
7:05 am – I shuffle through the dryer for some clothes to wear. Byrd is whining because she knows I’m about to leave her — apparently the quality time trick didn’t work. I assure her that I’ll be back after school, stuff my computer and cord in its case, and grab a pack of popcorn for lunch.
7:30 am – I’m sharing “early teacher” responsibilities with Julie, so on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I’m supposed to get to school by 7:45. At this point I’m usually rushing out the door, trying not to forget a stack of papers or my keys.
7:45 am – I arrive at school and pull up my lesson plan. I write the Do Now and homework up on the board while chatting with a few students who like to come in early and spend time with me. I’d love to just have some quiet work time here, but there are always a series of small fires to put out: “The pen on the reading chart broke,” and, “I can’t find the book I’m looking for,” and of course, the dreaded, “I lost my notebook.”
8:00 am – I rush out to make copies and cut apart questions for our discussion groups today.
8:15 am – I find a nice relaxing station on iTunes radio for my first 7th grade class to listen to as they complete their 10 minute Do Now. They’re chatty today and late getting started. They also forget to stand their independent reading books up to display what they’re reading for the class. I warn them that if they can’t handle the freedom of a 7th grade Do Now, they’ll be relegated to the structured 6th grade version (which is silent and strictly enforced). Today the Do Now is a discussion reflection where they’ll think about what went well and what went poorly in their group discussions last week. They have to set 1-2 goals for themselves in today’s discussion, which is the first one they’ll receive a grade for.
8:25 am – We discuss the last few chapters of our novel, Red Scarf Girl: A Memoir of the Cultural Revolution, together. I realize as we’re describing two girls’ changes throughout China’s Cultural Revolution that it would be best represented as a double line graph, so I jump up and have the students help me create one on the board. They copy it down in their novels as a succinct portrayal of character transformation. I’m pleased with myself and have Julie Reulbach run in from her class across the hall and check out our math skillz.
8:55 am – The students share the discussion goals they created during the Do Now and start on their graded small group discussion. I observe and record grades in my grade book based on the dynamics and content of their discussions. The question is a hard one: to develop empathy, I’m having them find evidence from the text to support Communism — something they’ve been trained all their lives not to do. It’s hard to see others’ points-of-view, but even though they’ve discovered so many negatives about the system, they jump right in to figure out why some people in China thought it was a beneficial change.
9:10 am – I’m late dismissing my students because I’m quickly explaining their homework to them. They’re to scan through the chapters so far and draw symbols representing characterization and character transformation in the text. We’ll use these next week. Finally, I tell the students to do their Exit Procedure (where they clean tables, push in chairs, and usually get their agendas checked). Today I skip checking agendas and dismiss them all, wary of keeping them much longer.
9:11 am – My next 7th grade class filters in as my first one leaves, and I turn on the Do Now music. I repeat the lesson, though each class feels remarkably different due to the varying discussions.
10:05 am – I rush to dismiss my second 7th grade. Even though the 6th graders have a 10-minute break before the next class starts, they are already filtering in my room with tons of questions: Can they start their Do Now? (No, it’s not even written up on the board yet!) Is snack in my room today? (Check the schedule!) Have I ever read this awesome book? (No, but it sounds neat!)
I play-gripe at them to go outside and enjoy their break, which is my only break too. Some of them leave, but some of them dawdle, thinking that “having a question for me” is a good excuse to stay. Sigh. Especially when their questions are about books or one of their hobbies — baking, gaming, etc. — I feel bad shutting them down. After all, isn’t one of my primary goals as a teacher to build them up as people? So I listen and try to respond while scanning over my lesson plan, writing the 6th grade Do Now and homework on the board, and running through the hallway to make a few more copies (yes, they follow.)
10:15 am – My first 6th grade class of the day is already seated when I rush back in with copies. They complain that their Do Now isn’t written up (what a change from 7th grade today!) and I explain that their Do Now will be verbal today because it’s complex. I have them line up around the room and grab a Writing Log and a manila folder to staple it into. I’m the staple person, since I’ve long since learned that they will jam the stapler 8 times over before we get through the line. I staple each student’s Writing Log into the folder and they go back to their seats to sort through their portfolios. We’re preparing for Portfolio Review tomorrow, where their parents will come in and see the amazing work they’ve done in all their classes so far this year. They log their first essay — a descriptive essay of their perfect world — into their new Writing Log, place all of their graded work into the portfolios, and put their portfolios back in the crate.
10:45 am – The rest of class is workshop time for them to work on their current project: turning a Greek myth of their choosing into a comic strip. The project refines smaller skills like making a presentation neat and attractive, using appropriate layout and spacing on a poster, and attention to detail. But the main goal is to reinforce their ability to pick out the main points of a plot, something we’ll work on all year long. They’re also careful to use the drawing skills they’ve learned so far in their art class.
Today most students are working on character sketches, 4 panels that will introduce main characters to the viewer. The panels include the character’s name, a drawing of the character, a description of their physicality and personality, and the role they play in the myth. During workshop, I confer with students incessantly for questions ranging from, “Is this good?” to, “I can only find 3 characters in my myth.” We troubleshoot and brainstorm together. At both the beginning and end of workshop, I do a Status of the Class check, where I call out their names and they give me a quick summary of where they are in their process (for instance, “I’m on character sketch 2 of 4.”) This allows me to assess their progress.
11:10 am – Time for 6th grade Service Learning, which I inevitably forgot we had today. No worries; it’s my fifth year teaching Service Learning and I know the fantastic curriculum by heart. 6th grade focuses on Animal Advocacy. Today we’re demonstrating a dog treat recipe for the students. They’ll bake batches of them at home (alone with their parents or in groups) and bring them in to package, price, and sell at our town’s Christmas festival. The money we raise will be donated to the Charlotte Humane Society and Cornelius Animal Shelter, two local animal shelters.
I grab the ingredients for the treats and explain our goals to the students. We head down to the campus kitchen together and crowd around the island. I thank God when I see Julie Reulbach, who’s also my fellow Service Learning teacher, has already laid out bowls and handed out recipes to the arriving students. I prepare the dog treats, tossing in a few cooking pointers here and there while my co-teacher throws herself into the role of fabulous cooking assistant: opening ingredients, shushing students, and washing dishes. We high-five afterwards for pulling everything together.
12:05 pm – My planning period! Another teacher asks for some advice dealing with a behavior issue, so we take care of that together. The student involved is tearful, having made an uncharacteristically poor decision, so I feel my role vacillate between disciplinarian and comforter. Teaching is an emotional experience.
I head back to my room to draft a few emails (a thank you to a parent volunteer, a question to another parent) and find a new message in my inbox about Grandfriend’s Day, when our students will bring their grandparents and friends to school to share their daily experience. It’s coming up quickly and I know I need to look at the guest list and prepare. Like so many emails throughout the week, this message gets filed under “to be dealt with” in my brain, since it requires actions I don’t have time to take at the moment. So often, as my colleague describes, my inbox becomes an “email graveyard.” I periodically clean it out, but currently it has 219 emails in it — some of which I’m sure I was supposed to have already responded to! I try my best.
12:35 pm – This is my only prep period, so I have to eat my lunch quick before it’s over! I pop my popcorn and eat it while vegging out to the tune of Facebook, CNN, and People.com.
12:55 pm – I’m usually still stuffing the last few pieces of popcorn into my mouth (or let’s be realistic, dropping them all over my lap) as my next 6th grade class walks in the door. I welcome this new class and grab my stapler to repeat my lesson plan for them.
1:50 pm – This is project work time. My 7th grade students are working on finishing up the last bits of their Japanese anime project — an interdisciplinary application project that combines social studies, language arts, science, visual arts, and music. I rush down to the art room to help the art teacher facilitate their stop-motion animation, which we’ll show at their “Japanese Film Fest” style Portfolio Review. I feel a little useless since I’m not particularly artistic, but I at least offer a few helpful pointers about the animation process to a couple of groups and retrieve some colored whiteboard markers for another.
2:45 pm – Now it’s time for advisory, where I meet with a small group of 7th grade girls and check up on their academic and social well-being each day. Today we’re continuing a discussion on body image. They’ve brought in magazines and they each choose an advertisement and brainstorm about how it might make “everyday girls” feel inadequate. We have a good time poking fun at the ideals being touted by each magazine.
3:15 pm – I dismiss my students and head to Cookie Capers, a weekly baking camp I hold with several lower school students. This week we’re baking Pumpkin Cake Cookies. It’s a chaotic hour and a half, but somehow everyone emerges unscathed and well-fed.
4:45 pm – I jump in the car and head home to Byrd, who — as one of my fellow teachers like to say — is probably dancing around with her legs crossed.
5:05 pm – Byrd gets some relief when I take her out to potty. I’m exhausted, but I eat a quick snack and check up on emails I missed during camp. I fill my turtle’s feeding tank and feed him.
6:00 pm – Honestly, at the beginning of the year I’d usually lie down for a nap at this point, but then I ended up pushing all of my work later into the evening. Lately I’ve been trying to get it all finished earlier. Now, for instance, I might quickly piece together tomorrow’s lesson plan by adapting plans from previous years to students’ current needs and level of progress. Then I might grade some 6th grade projects. Thankfully, these are quick to grade since they’re not papers, but résumés the students wrote to apply for a job as the next Greek god or goddess.
When I have papers to grade, it feels like my whole schedule grinds to a halt. There’s never enough time in prep periods to get many of them finished — I can finish 5 a schoolday if I’m absolutely in the zone — and my schedule at home is usually jam-packed unless I’m staying up too late (which I always am). I’m so lucky to have a small number of students (60), but still, paper grading is a heavy burden.
7:00 pm – I throw on my workout clothes and drive to the gym for a 7:30 exercise class. Tonight it’s Zumba. I’m not very energetic, but I get through the class and the few individual exercises I do afterward — back raises, stair climbs. My night would be so much easier if I didn’t work out, but after developing health problems this summer, I’m not willing to sacrifice it.
9:00 pm – I head to my local deli to eat dinner and continue working. I usually read the news while I eat (or, let’s be honest, watch this live feed of the kitten room of a no-kill shelter), but then as soon as my food is gone, I’ll work on photo editing, recipe development, blog post writing, Willow Bird Baking social media upkeep, and email responses. I’ll also work on any lesson planning I still have left to do.
10:00 pm – The deli closes and kicks me out, so I head home to continue work. I take mini-breaks to poke around on Facebook, CNN, or my RSS feed. I always plan to get to bed by 11 but usually end up realizing around that time that I still have to take Byrd out, do something about the dishes all over the counter, rewash my laundry which has soured after being forgotten, brush my teeth, take my medicine, and other miscellaneous tasks before being able to go to bed.
12:00 am – I get into bed, kicking myself for not going to sleep earlier. I constantly lambaste myself for not using my time wisely; I feel like I could have peeked at Facebook less, not taken a nap (if I did), been a little more firm when 5 students came up to ask me a question at once during my prep period, or graded a few more papers instead of taking an actual break for lunch. In fact, my defensiveness about my exercise above probably stems from feeling guilty about taking that 1.5 – 2 hours for my health, even though I know it’s something I need and that ultimately will reduce (theoretically) my days out of work due to illness.
Unfortunately, since I have two jobs (you’re looking at the second one!), my weekends are slammed as well. Friday night is spent putting the finishing touches on a recipe, grocery shopping, and baking. Saturday is spent exercising, baking, styling food, and photographing food. Church is a highlight, but it consumes Sunday morning. Sunday evening is when I lesson plan and update my class pages. This means the only time I can spend with Mike is Saturday night and Sunday lunch (which is spent with Mike’s family). That’s on the weekends when he drives to see me in Charlotte. When I pack up, stuff Byrd in the car, and make the three-hour trip to see him in Raleigh, you can imagine the schedule havoc that creates.
So what’s the point? Just a big whine? Actually, no. I know that having a crazy schedule is a minor complaint. I love teaching and I love my students. I feel like I have the most amazing job in the universe. And frankly, I love that I have any job and a roof over my head.
But I would like to have time to prepare meals, exercise without guilt, and get enough sleep. This isn’t unique to me — this is the story of teachers everywhere. It’s just important that we know what we’re asking of teachers when making policies (and heck, pondering the state of their salaries across the country) so we’re treating teachers like the professional management that they are.
. . .
If you have time in your day to squeeze in some baking, these cookies are a comforting choice. They combine the salty, savory pimiento cheese with bright, fresh strawberry jam. I know it sounds like a weird combination, but just imagine the tart jam on, say, a cheese straw, and you’ll have a good idea of the awesome flavor of these babies. They’re easy to whip up and so unique — perfect for a holiday cookie swap or cocktail party (do people actually throw cocktail parties? And a better question: why are they not inviting me? Oh, right, because I don’t have time…)
Recipe by: slightly adapted from Southern Living, originally from Pawley’s Island Specialty Foods
Yield: 2 dozen cookies
These cookies are so easy, creative, and delicious! They taste like a spicy, nutty cheese straw with tart, sweet jam slathered on top. They’re addictive and perfect for Christmas cookie swaps.
Ingredients:
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup Southern pimiento cheese, processed fine (don’t skimp on the hot peppers)
1/2 cup pecans, finely chopped
1/4 cup butter, softened
2 tablespoons strawberry jam
2 tablespoons apple jelly
Directions:
In a large bowl, mix together the flour and pimiento cheese to form a paste. Beat in the finely chopped pecans and butter. Wrap the resulting dough in plastic wrap, forming it into a disc, and chill it in the refrigerator for 2 hours.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F and prepare two baking sheets with parchment paper. On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to about 1/8-inch thickness, checking often to be sure it’s not sticking. Use a 2-inch circle cookie cutter, cut out cookies and place them on the prepared baking sheet about 2 inches apart. Place 1 teaspoon full of jam (apple or strawberry) in the center of each cookie before placing another cookie cutout on top and pressing the edges to seal them. You can reroll the scraps once to get more cookie rounds.
Bake for 12 to 15 minutes or until golden brown and crisp. Let them cool on the baking sheets for 10 minutes before transferring them to a wire rack to cool completely. No, really, let them cool, or you will burn your mouth off on flaming jelly. Do not ask how I know this.
Want to see more Days in the Lives of Educators? Here’s how:
Things I learned this past weekend in Lexington, Kentucky:
1. I’m a master at betting on horse races. I doubled my money betting on a spunky little horse named Get Runnin’ with 8-1 odds.
Okay, so I guess it’s not fair to leave out the part about the second race, where my horse came in dead last. When everyone cheered for the winner trotting by, I was yelling to my horse, “It’s okay! You tried your best!”
I still came out ahead overall. But I guess it’s not fair to leave out the fact that by “came out ahead,” I mean that I had a whopping $2.60 more than I started with.
2. You know those calendar photos that depict a peaceful street meandering between a row of bright honeycrisp-apple-colored trees? Or maybe the ones where a trail disappears behind an outcropping of rock lined with whispers and splashes of fall foliage? Or maybe the ones that show a rustic ferry piddling its way across a narrow river with old railroad trestles in the background? Yeah, every single one of those pictures is apparently taken in Kentucky.
3. Wine is gross. I tried and tried, y’all. How do you drink this stuff? Bloody Marys are acceptable, though. And margaritas are pretty darn good, particularly with a salted rim and some chips and salsa! Can I salt the rim of other beverages? Coke Zero? Trying it.
4. There’s a castle in the middle of Kentucky. I was surprised, too. You drive around a bend in the highway and BAM! Camelot. Yes, we posed for princessy pictures in front of it, duh.
5. Sports fans have uniforms just like the players: for University of Kentucky football fans, it seemed necessary to wear that deep blue sweatshirt everyday, everywhere. For the horse racing crowd, however, the uniform was a bit more upscale: heels, skirts, and blazers, y’all!
6. My sister’s boyfriend, Alain, apart from being an all-around great guy, is a superb chef: think meatballs filled with melty Fontina cheese on a bed of al dente spaghetti and shredded Parmesan. Heaven.
7. My sister is wonderful. Okay, I didn’t learn this in Kentucky; I already knew it. But visiting her in her new Lexington apartment just reminded me. First off, she flew me up to Kentucky in the first place. Then she took me to enjoy all sorts of great food: take-out pizza; gorgeous croissants; giant plates of Mexican tortillas, chiles, beef, and over-easy eggs; a bacon, eggs, and blueberry cornbread breakfast with salted European butter; and fresh sandwiches from the market.
She also let me hog her fancy massager-heater-recliner the whole time I was there. She gave me the guest bed with the awesome mattress (though I was skeptical while I was there, I now have to concede that it’s even better than the one I have at home.) She took me to see all the above attractions — horse races, beautiful countryside, and castles, for goodness’s sake. And, more than all that, she’s always, always, always loving and supportive. Thank you, Sarah!
In tribute to Kentucky Derby Pie, which combines chocolate and toasted pecans, I give you the “Magic Bar” pastry braid. This tender, almond-scented pastry envelopes melty chocolate, pecans, and coconut bound together with sweetened condensed milk. It’s pretty, but don’t be fooled: this pastry braid is super easy to prepare!
What are some things you love about your siblings?
If you love Magic Bars, you’ll love this pastry braid! The cream cheese dough is very easy to work with, so don’t be intimidated if it looks a little fancy — you’ll look like you did a lot more work than you actually had to do.
Dough and Filling Ingredients:
2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter, cold
3 ounces best quality cream cheese, cold
1/2 cup milk, minus 1/2 teaspoon
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
Filling Ingredients:
1 cup coconut, toasted
3/4 cup bittersweet chocolate chunks (I use Ghirardelli 60% cacao), plus more for topping
3/4 cup pecans, chopped and toasted, plus more whole pecans for topping
about 1/4 cup sweetened condensed milk
Directions:
NOTE: To prepare this braid in advance, complete all steps and assemble the braid but do not bake. Cover the braid on its parchment lined baking sheet with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. Set out in the morning as you preheat the oven and then bake as usual.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. In the bowl of a food processor, mix the flour, baking powder, and salt. Add the cream cheese and butter into the flour mixture and pulse to cut the fat into the flour (about 6 pulses). Add the milk and almond extract and blend into a loose dough.
Turn the dough onto a floured surface and knead VERY LIGHTLY for 4-5 strokes. (NOTE: This is the step at which you can ruin the braid. If you overwork the dough, the pastry will be tough. Just gather the dough together and don’t worry about making it smooth. It will still look a little rough. That’s perfect.)
Between two sheets of waxed paper, roll the dough to an 8- by 12-inch rectangle. Turn dough out onto a lightly greased baking sheet and remove the waxed paper. Measure and mark the dough lengthwise into thirds. Sprinkle the coconut down the middle third of the dough (saving a bit for the top), keeping it about 1/2 inch from the mark on both sides. Sprinkle the chocolate chunks over the coconut. Sprinkle the pecans over the chocolate chunks. Drizzle sweetened condensed milk evenly over the top.
Make 2 1/4-inch slight diagonal cuts at 1-inch intervals on each the long sides (see photos at the bottom of this post for visual example.) Do not cut into the center filled area. Fold strips, first one from one side and then one from the other side in a rotating fashion, over the filling. It will now resemble a braid. Bake in a 425° oven for 12-15 minutes, until the dough is cooked through and the top is lightly browned, rotating once halfway through.
Melt extra chocolate chips for topping according to package instructions (usually in 15 second intervals on half power, stirring between each heating.) Drizzle melted chocolate over the top of the braid. If desired, sprinkle on extra toasted coconut and pecans while the chocolate is still wet. Serve warm.
Have we talked about how I turned down the most gorgeous faucet known to humanity? No? Let me complain for a moment, then: I received an email offering me a free faucet. I get these sort of emails all the time — they offer free products to review. I usually ignore them or politely decline. And a faucet would’ve sounded decidedly pedestrian to me until I had my own residence to furnish. But it just so happened that when I got this particular email, I was knee-deep in decorating my new apartment with hip art prints and succulents. And this faucet — this gorgeous faucet! — had the supple curves of a swan’s neck, a built-in hidden sprayer, and a broad array of snazzy finishes.
OH, the faucet!
My current faucet has a rusty, bent aerator and makes a squeaky noise every time you turn it on. Just as a frame of reference. Just so you fully understand my desire for this glorious, free, swan’s-necked-snazzy-finished faucet.
my favorite!
But (a few tears shed on my behalf would be welcome here) I turned down the offer. I would’ve had to review it here on Willow Bird Baking, and since I didn’t already use that brand and wouldn’t have had an opportunity to compare it to others (besides my rusty-bent-squeaky one, anyway), I didn’t feel like it would be a very balanced review. And even though it was a beautiful faucet, Willow Bird Baking is about food, community, life lessons, and kitchen confidence. When some of the blogs I’ve loved in the past began to look more like review sites, littered with products and sponsored posts, I lost interest. It seemed less personal, less important, and less authentic.
I say all this so that when I start squealing like a fangirl about Ghirardelli in a moment, you know that it’s coming from me, Julie, who doesn’t do product reviews without a really great reason (and who may or may not have stress-eaten about 3 of these Ghirardelli Intense Dark Chocolate bars before my first Willow Bird Baking Challenge hangout the other week. No comment.)
But seriously, I’m an old-school Ghirardelli lover. After watching America’s Test Kitchen choose their 60% cacao chips in a taste-test years ago, I tried them for myself and was hooked. I now use them in almost every recipe calling for chocolate. That’s pretty normal. Taking touristy photos of their Willy-Wonka-esque factory in San Francisco like I was on a flippin’ pilgrimage probably isn’t.
Regarding that stress-eating, by the way . . . Ghirardelli wants me to tell you about how the Ghirardelli Intense Dark Chocolates can help you to create a perfect moment in your day. The moments I can tell you about are as follows:
-Um, that stress-eating incident.
-When Mike and I stood at the counter and taste-tested every. single. one. of the seven chocolate bars Ghirardelli sent me. And then retested them repeatedly like they were incorrigible schoolchildren.
-That one night when Mike and I piled a truckload of ice cream into a bowl with some Ghirardelli Intense Dark Chocolate squares so that I could prove to him that they were better when not combined with something cold (what, you’ve never proven something by contradiction? I suffer for science.)
-The morning where I didn’t have anything left for breakfast so I ate a metric ton of chocolate, pretzels, dates, and leftover toasted coconut and pecans.
These aren’t exactly your typical “perfect” moments. They’re more your typical frazzled-schoolteacher-with-a-few-minutes-to-eat-as-much-chocolate-as-possible moments.
However imperfect the moments might have been, the chocolate was perfect. Smooth and rich, the taste lingers on your tongue (as long as it’s warm, Mike) and pairs perfectly with so many different treats. I guess that’s why the chocolate itself can serve as an oasis in the midst of a chaotic day. A moment of perfection even within the imperfection, you might say?
I can’t wait to use the rest of my Ghirardelli Intense Dark Chocolates in lots of amazing recipes. In the meantime, here’s a fun way you can enjoy them: paired with salty pretzel rods, juicy dates, toasted coconut, and toasted pecans. Breakfast of champions…?
Dessert Smörgåsbord with Ghirardelli Intense Dark Chocolates
I call this a dessert smörgåsbord, but if I’m going to be real, I had this for breakfast the other day. The point is, these foods pair beautifully with Ghirardelli Intense Dark Chocolates any time of day.
Ingredients:
Salted pretzel rods
dates
toasted coconut
toasted pecans
a Ghirardelli Intense Dark Chocolate bar (I prefer the 60% cacao Evening Dream, but Hazelnut Heaven, Toffee Interlude, and Sea Salt Soirée are close behind!)
Directions:
Hunt and peck your way through the dessert smörgåsbord, combining and alternating flavors. I always advise to eat Ghirardelli chocolate with a warm drink or none at all — cold foods/drinks drastically change the experience by preventing some of the melt that occurs when you chew. That’s where all the flavor is! So avoid cold milk and ice cream with your dessert buffet.
Illustrating my love for Ghirardelli’s 60% Cacao chocolate: here are all the recipes where I’ve mentioned it on Willow Bird Baking!
This post is brought to you by Ghirardelli Intense Dark™ Chocolate. While I was compensated for my time and groceries and provided with lots of delicious chocolate, I never, ever share products with you that I’m not personally exuberant about, and that’s a promise!
Everything I need to know in life, I am learning from my dog.
She’s a mess, but she’s an amazing little mess, and I learn a lot from how she lives her life. Here are all the ways she’s teaching me lately.
1. She takes time to smell the roses — literally (especially if the roses have recently been peed on, but I digress).
I only recently started to appreciate this about her; it used to annoy me. When I take her outside, I’m always in a hurry to get back inside, get to work, or get to bed. She likes to explore, though, sniffing each blade of grass with intense concentration, evaluating the pheromones of all the dogs there before her, finding interesting plants to pee on, and investigating the occasional mushroom. I’ve noticed with some sadness lately that she seems rushed and nervous, knowing I’m going to pull her away from her survey at any moment. Why am I in such a hurry? I’m resolving now to wake up a little earlier, stay outside with her a little longer, and maybe smell the roses (not as literally, perhaps) a little more myself.
2. She stays positive. She’s been limping recently due to a back injury, but I’ll be darned if she doesn’t limp right up to me with a bone in her mouth, ready to play fetch! Now that’s optimism. (And that’s also a guilt trip, since she knows I’m gonna say no!) Personally, if I get so much as a cold, I can become a huge Chocolate-Chip-Cookie-Dough-eating baby. I could use some of Byrd’s positive attitude.
3. She wiggles. It’s just cute! Okay, I guess it might be kind of weird if I start doing this one.
4. She asks for what she needs. I can be pretty passive at times. Sometimes I’m shy about my desires or needs, so I’ll just hint at them or hope people can read my mind. This can produce miscommunication and frustration. Byrd, on the other hand, is about as direct as she can possibly be. If she wants me to throw her bone, she sets it on my foot and howls like a banshee. When she needs to go out in the middle of the night, she stares at me and cries. When she wants her food, she spins in circles until I put her bowl down. She may not be verbal, but she makes her needs known, and therefore they get met. If I want my needs to be met, I need to be just as straightforward.
5. She lets people know that she loves them. However, she does this with full frontal licking attacks (sticking her tongue up my nostril is her favorite), so perhaps I should find different tactics. Perhaps.
6. She’s not perfect. Did I mention that she’s a mess? Evidence:
-I had to take a sick day during the second week of school to take her to the vet because she periodically just kind of falls apart (knee, hip, back, allergies, upset tummy, you name it).
-She’s one of those expensive fluff-balls you have to groom every month.
-She had an accident in the floor today. And yesterday.
-She also barks at loud noises (and soft noises. And silence.) Basically, this (language warning!).
She feels bad about these mistakes when admonished, but she’s resilient, and she continues to believe that she deserves my love. Why can’t we be like that? When I make a mistake, I feel like I just kicked a kitten or shut down a children’s hospital. I feel like I don’t deserve people’s mercy or love. But you know, there’s only so much you should punish yourself for goofing up!
7. She may be a mess, but she’s worth the trouble. And I am, too.
Even now, Byrd is teaching me. I’m currently learning all about the joys of relaxation from listening to her snore on the blanket beside me, sleeping off a busy day of pooping on my carpet. I’ll carry her into my bedroom in a moment for our bedtime, but before that, I wanted to tell you about possibly one of the best pumpkin recipes I’ve ever tasted. It’s not as cute as a fluffy poodle, but it is incredibly delicious (something poodles probably aren’t. I don’t ever want to find out if that’s true or not.)
This cake isn’t really “German” as in the nationality, but it includes the filling from German Chocolate Cakes (which are named in honor of Sam German, an American who created a product for Baker’s Chocolate.) It’s a moist, simple pumpkin skillet cake with a layer of gooey, rich toasted pecan and coconut filling ladled over top. Mike and I ate it with ice cream (duh) and a totally excessive drizzle of caramel sauce, swooning with every bite. You’re going to LOVE it.
This cake is INSANE and easy and you just have, have, have to make it. That is all.
Cake Ingredients:
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter
1/4 cup vegetable oil
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
1 cup pureed pumpkin
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
2 1/8 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/2 cup toasted pecans (optional, see note in directions)
“German” Filling Ingredients:
2/3 cup heavy cream
2/3 cup sugar
2 large egg yolks
2 ounces butter, cut into small pieces
1/3 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup pecans, toasted and finely chopped (see note in directions)
1 cup unsweetened coconut, toasted (see note in directions)
Directions: Note: To toast your chopped pecans, spread them on a sheet pan and bake at 350 degrees F for about 6 minutes or until fragrant, stirring a couple of times. Toast coconut the same way, stirring often (it might take less time, however: maybe 4-5 minutes total). Don’t be scared and pull the nuts and coconut out when it’s pale — let it get good and dark, but not burnt.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. In a 10- or 12-inch cast iron skillet (I used a 10-inch) over medium heat, melt the butter. Stir in the vegetable oil, sugars, and vanilla and remove from heat. Let this mixture cool until the pan is no longer hot (about 5 minutes) so you won’t scramble your eggs.
Add both eggs to the butter mixture, whisking them well to combine. Whisk in the pumpkin. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice (Note: it’s kind of lame to use another bowl for this and I think you should be able to just dump all your dry ingredients on top and whisk them in well, but I was too chicken to try. If you just dump them in, please let me know how it goes!)
Stir in the toasted pecans if you’re using them. Bake your skillet cookie for 15-35* minutes, or until the edges are getting golden and the center is still soft (a toothpick inserted into the center should come out with some moist crumbs, but no liquid batter).
While your cake bakes and then cools for a bit, make the filling. Place the butter, salt, toasted coconut, and toasted pecans in a medium bowl. In a small saucepan, heat the cream, sugar, and egg yolks over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture is thickened, coats the spoon, and reads 170 degrees F on a candy thermometer. Pour this mixture over the coconut mixture and stir until the butter melts. Let the mixture cool completely (I set mine in the fridge once it was almost cool to thicken it some more.) Spread the cooled mixture over the surface of the pumpkin cake. Eat immediately (preferably straight from the skillet, with heaps of vanilla bean ice cream!)
*Depending on your skillet, this cooking time can really vary. I’d start checking at 15 minutes and then check every couple of minutes after that with toothpicks. Make sure to look for moist crumbs, not a clean toothpick. If you overbake, it might be dry!
