I baked a lemon bundt cake this morning for my county fair entry, which I hope shall reach a mellow, not so loud, lemon tart flavor when the judges taste it this Wednesday afternoon. This cake has several firsts for me. It's the first time I've entered a cake in the fair, I tried a new recipe, and I experimented with the recipe twice (I wrote about the first attempt last month). I added a lot more lemon zest and a heaping measurement of sour cream to the recipe for more lemon flavor and less dryness. And, yes, I used a bundt pan this time.
Thank goodness that the Husband hung out in the kitchen while I was working on the cake. He looked up things on Google: How many tablespoons equal 1/4 cup? How do I make lemon syrup? When do I douse the cake with lemon syrup? Which end of the bundt cake do I display (the Husband had it right—the bundt ridges must show)? and How do I store the cake if I'm not serving it right away?
Sorry, no photo. The cake is nothing truly exciting to see. But, how about that photo above of Trinity River in Northern California?
I took the photo from the backside of Indian Creek Lodge where the Husband and I stayed when we were visiting the Trinity Alps area at the beginning of September. All that water you see in the foreground to the right wasn't there the day before. Lewiston Dam had been slowly releasing water for a local tribal boat dance ceremony that was to take place a day or so after we left.
The Trinity River watershed is huge. It was tamed by a huge earthfill dam in the early 1960s so the water could be diverted hundreds of miles away to irrigate the farmlands in the dry San Joaquin Valley.
Here's a photo of the trees above the river. It felt wonderful being among the trees. It's amazing how some people are ignorant about why we need trees to breathe.
Good friend Missus H let me assist her with canning salsa last week. I wanted the experience of canning without the responsibility of making sure I haven't created a haven for botulism. Canning salsa with Missus H was easy and a lot of fun.
"Peel the tomatoes," Missus H said. I peeled the blanched tomatoes with a cute strawberry stem removal tool.
"Peel the jalapeños," she said, giving me a pair of non-latex gloves. I put on those gloves (no burning for me, thank you very much) and peeled the roasted jalapeños.
She showed me the recipe and gave me measuring tools to add spices to the simmering pot. I also stirred the pot from time to time. When the salsa was ready, I filled the sterilized jars after Missus H showed me how.
Missus H was on the mark when she predicted that we'd be done in three hours, from prepping the tomatoes, onions, and jalapeños to sterilizing the jars to processing the salsa jars in boiling water. My favorite part of the process was learning tips that only a person would know after decades of canning fruits and vegetables. Another favorite part was hearing the lids go pop! A sign of a happy jar of salsa safe to eat.
The salsa is yummy. Missus H sent me home with three of the seven jars we canned. The Husband and I are nearly halfway through one jar.
In the last post I wrote about my mystery craft project for the county fair. Below is the final result. It looks like a cake, hence, I call it my love cake. I turned it in yesterday afternoon along with a bag made out of duct tape, a decoupaged rock, a wall hanging, and a pastel drawing. Pictures next week.
I'm sharing today's post with All Seasons and Mosaic Monday. Check them out after checking out the Love Cake.