So, Scott has already recounted the tragedy of the first attempt at a gingerbread house. There were to be others. Many others. And, honestly, a certain quote comes to mind, "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting it to come out different."
When I moved to San Francisco, Cee Cee would take me around to all the fancy hotels at Christmas time and we would gaze upon these gingerbread fairy tale kingdoms that clearly took months to plan and assemble as well as a battalion of pastry chefs and architects. My favorite year was the the Russian themed year with all the onion domes and stained glass windows. These gingerbread houses were proudly displayed in hotels like the Fairmont and St. Francis and were often taller than me and beautifully landscaped and lit. Let's not forget the lighting comes from within and without. My mind dismissed the gingerbread disaster of my youth and looked forward to my future successes that were sure to come.
Below is pictured a gingerbread house from S.F. Hyatt's 2012 display that I found here.
When I had children I thought what a wonderful gift it would be to them if I could make gingerbread houses for and with them. Of course I also realized that I couldn't make the houses with them. The kids would be eating the candy the entire time and it would end in tears for all of us. So, while we briefly lived in San Rafael, Christmas 2003 I took a gingerbread house class down in Sausalito for parents and children. Of course, I showed up without my children. This was my dragon, not theirs ... yet. Let's just say that even with instruction, I walked away with a collapsed pile of gingerbread and gumdrops dripping with royal icing that was never to set. It ended in tears.
The following year we moved to Chico. I still clung to my fantasy of building a fully landscaped gingerbread mansion. I bought cast iron baking forms for gingerbread houses. I spent a week baking the various pieces at night after the kids went to bed. The following week I spent time assembling the pieces with my homemade royal icing after the kids went to bed. Each night I would stuff my cookie sheet full of house in progress into the top of the hall closet. At night, after the kids went to bed, I went down to Winco to shop their bulk candy bins. I needed hard candy to melt into stained glass windows and the ice skating pond. I had candy rocks for the retaining wall. I used marshmallows and licorice for the snowman. I had bags upon bags of candy ready for the midnight assemblage.
In any event, after many sleepless nights, I was not entirely satisfied with my house and, now, not entirely in my right mind. It didn't look anything like the one in my mind's eye or the hotel lobby of the St. Francis. Pouting and sobbing with frustration I pulled the "nearly completed" house down from the closet and sacrificed it to the kids. They had no regard for the weeks of labor that went into building this monstrosity. They simply gnawed at the pieces of candy they were able to pry out of the royal icing. It sat there like a rat chewed gingerbread shanty for a day or so until the ants moved in. With great frustration I took the whole sheet out to the trash and dumped it as my kids stood round crying that I would do such a thing. (Oh, yes, a Joan Crawford moment).
Just this year I was having dinner with a friend one night who said that she was thinking about trying to make a "paleo" gingerbread house for next year. I couldn't resist. I took the bait! I had been working on my mad paleo baking skills. And, although I knew better than to attempt it on my own, I suggested to her that I still have the cast iron gingerbread house forms. In fact, I went so far as to suggest maybe she bake it. I really needed to let go of this. I don't know how I know this ... but I bet I will get involved and somehow it will end up in tears.
So, about this same time, my Uncle Kevin sends out a photo of his wife, Karin, enjoying the construction of a gingerbread house along with their grandson. It was a moment was I never to have. This opened the door for my brother, Scott, to recount the humorous tragedy of our first attempt at gingerbread house ourselves. After we all laughed until we cried (why must it always end in tears?) Kevin and Karin sent out the gingerbread house kits to myself, Scott and Cee Cee. The competition is on!
Stay tuned for the next post. Construction has already begun on the Gingerbread FEMA Shanty Trailer, I might have to whip up a little more royal icing and go prop shopping. Photos and complete story to come in next post. It may end in tears.
No comments:
Post a Comment