When I came to DC in February of this year for my visit, it was just to be a vacation. Watching my niece all day (fun for me--I got so little time with her during the year, I was happy to watch her all day to try to get my fill in the few days I got to be there), hitting up the Smithsonians, running on the National Mall, and just hanging out with my sister and brother in law and having fun.
And, for the most part, that was was happened. Sort of.
As I'd mentioned, it turns out I'd picked up a rather nasty bug somewhere along the line days before my vacation was to start (naturally--isn't that how it always happens?). And, despite my dedicated use of nasty ZiCam dissolving tablets (dear ZiCam--please bring back the nose swabs! Seriously!), my symptoms just progressed leading up to and during my trip. But I am stubborn and, when I feel like it, particularly good at denial.
I was sniffley, had chest congestion I had never before known the likes of, had fatigue like woah, and often felt extremely short of breath (the cold air felt like FIRE in my lungs), but still insisted on pushing my niece the mile or two to whichever museum I thought would be a fun visit that day. So while I had the presence of mind to forgo running on the National Mall, the repeated field trips into the cold weather were--in hindsight--also not helping my case. My symptoms got even worse as my visit went on--one afternoon, I found myself lying face-down on my air mattress at my sister's condo while my niece tore pages from a magazine next to me. It occupied her, and I honestly hadn't the energy to get up and try to entertain her myself. I figured if she was happy doing that, I'd let her. Of course my sister came home right around that time--I'm sure I looked like Auntie of the Year.
So that was the state I was in when I received an unexpected phone call. During some downtime, I'd hopped on my laptop and perused the DC and Baltimore Craigslists, just seeing what cake jobs were around, if any. I'd found a couple Baltimore jobs that looked interesting, and had sent off virtual copies of my resume, photos of my work, and notes explaining very clearly that while I was not living in the area, I was visiting for the week and very much considering a move. I figured, worst case scenario, I would just never hear back, and I would head back to Santa Fe and ramp up my search out there.
But then I got a call from a well-established Baltimore cake shop--they'd gotten my e-mail and wanted me to come in for an interview! I agreed--I didn't know exactly how I'd get up there (it was about an hour's drive, and nowhere near the Metro lines), but I was determined to rent a car if I had to. Luckily, when I told my lovely older sister about it, she excitedly told me they had provided HER wedding cake years back, and she would be happy to drive me (and get some cake after).
She dredged up some interview worthy clothes for me to wear (those, I had not packed--I honestly had not thought I would ever get an interview, despite my hopes), we dropped my niece off at daycare for the morning, and headed up the 95 to Baltimore.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Monday, August 12, 2013
My Cross-Country Journey, Part 1
Or, "Why Baltimore?" I get this question a lot--not so much from the few readers who happen onto here, but from my co-workers, a lot of whom have never lived anywhere BUT Baltimore, and can't seem to fathom someone purposefully coming out here. :-) So, be warned--this series of posts has very little to do with cake, and more to do with personal life. Maybe this is evolving into a combination of the two!
Earlier this year/late 2012, things at my job in Santa Fe had been...let's say strained. They'd promised me a lot of things when they'd hired me, and then conveniently forgot those things/delayed indefinitely delivering upon them. I'd been trying to push them to follow through for some months, and had reached the end of my tether when, after all that, they cut my hours and started scheduling me as though I were some sort of fill-in baker/decorator. Instead of having more wedding cakes than I could handle, as I'd been promised, suddenly I was relegated to early morning shifts of baking cakes and decorating cupcakes--not what I wanted to be doing.
The kicker was that even the wedding work I DID have (returning e-mails, taking consultations, creating invoices, etc.) suddenly was to take a back seat to this other work. The owner claimed there wasn't enough wedding work to meet the hours I wanted (the full-time 40 hour workweek I'd been promised, which--even with the grunt work--I was falling FAR short of). But he also refused my repeated requests to purchase booth space at local wedding events, claiming he only did the shows that were free for him to attend (BTW, these don't exist or, if they do, they don't bring in the clientele he would be aiming for anyway). I saw the writing on the wall: while I was bringing in a fair share of work from the referrals sent by hotel and coordinator contacts I'd made, it was clear to me that they would do anything they could to avoid fulfilling the golden job opportunity they'd claimed to want to give me a year prior.
I'd asked for and been granted time off in February of this year (unpaid, naturally, as paid time off was one of those things they conveniently forgot having offered me, and I--trusting as I was--had never gotten the details of my offer in writing). My plan was to visit my sister, niece, and brother-in-law in DC--in the weeks leading up to my trip, the manager (a clueless, micromanaging "I want to help you, but only if it doesn't inconvenience me" types) kept alluding to how much fun she was sure I'd have, and how I'd be so much happier when I came back (as though my trip would magically erase my memory of just how much I felt I'd been screwed over by this particular business). My response was usually the same: "yeah, sure--if I come back at all." To which she'd always chuckle, as though it were a funny joke.
Thing was: it wasn't. I'd been thinking for some time about a change. At that point, I'd actually interviewed with a couple other places in Santa Fe, but nothing yet had been something I was willing to leave my wedding cakes for. Because while I had definite feelings against the owners and management of the Santa Fe bakery, I felt a strong connection and obligation toward my wedding clients--both those I'd booked, or was even just in the process of getting to know. Most of those clients had only ever worked with me--I was the person they e-mailed for first contact, I was the person they met with for tastings, I was the person who helped guide their design, and I prepared their quotes, took their payments, and answered their questions. In my mind, though I worked for this bakery, these were still MY clients--my responsibilities.
Nonetheless, I went out to DC for my visit, armed with gifts for my niece, the beginnings of what I now believe was severe flu, and...my cake portfolio.
Earlier this year/late 2012, things at my job in Santa Fe had been...let's say strained. They'd promised me a lot of things when they'd hired me, and then conveniently forgot those things/delayed indefinitely delivering upon them. I'd been trying to push them to follow through for some months, and had reached the end of my tether when, after all that, they cut my hours and started scheduling me as though I were some sort of fill-in baker/decorator. Instead of having more wedding cakes than I could handle, as I'd been promised, suddenly I was relegated to early morning shifts of baking cakes and decorating cupcakes--not what I wanted to be doing.
The kicker was that even the wedding work I DID have (returning e-mails, taking consultations, creating invoices, etc.) suddenly was to take a back seat to this other work. The owner claimed there wasn't enough wedding work to meet the hours I wanted (the full-time 40 hour workweek I'd been promised, which--even with the grunt work--I was falling FAR short of). But he also refused my repeated requests to purchase booth space at local wedding events, claiming he only did the shows that were free for him to attend (BTW, these don't exist or, if they do, they don't bring in the clientele he would be aiming for anyway). I saw the writing on the wall: while I was bringing in a fair share of work from the referrals sent by hotel and coordinator contacts I'd made, it was clear to me that they would do anything they could to avoid fulfilling the golden job opportunity they'd claimed to want to give me a year prior.
I'd asked for and been granted time off in February of this year (unpaid, naturally, as paid time off was one of those things they conveniently forgot having offered me, and I--trusting as I was--had never gotten the details of my offer in writing). My plan was to visit my sister, niece, and brother-in-law in DC--in the weeks leading up to my trip, the manager (a clueless, micromanaging "I want to help you, but only if it doesn't inconvenience me" types) kept alluding to how much fun she was sure I'd have, and how I'd be so much happier when I came back (as though my trip would magically erase my memory of just how much I felt I'd been screwed over by this particular business). My response was usually the same: "yeah, sure--if I come back at all." To which she'd always chuckle, as though it were a funny joke.
Thing was: it wasn't. I'd been thinking for some time about a change. At that point, I'd actually interviewed with a couple other places in Santa Fe, but nothing yet had been something I was willing to leave my wedding cakes for. Because while I had definite feelings against the owners and management of the Santa Fe bakery, I felt a strong connection and obligation toward my wedding clients--both those I'd booked, or was even just in the process of getting to know. Most of those clients had only ever worked with me--I was the person they e-mailed for first contact, I was the person they met with for tastings, I was the person who helped guide their design, and I prepared their quotes, took their payments, and answered their questions. In my mind, though I worked for this bakery, these were still MY clients--my responsibilities.
Nonetheless, I went out to DC for my visit, armed with gifts for my niece, the beginnings of what I now believe was severe flu, and...my cake portfolio.
Monday, June 24, 2013
BANANAS!
I know, right? "Bananas? What does that have to do with cake?" Absolutely nothing, but read on anyways.
So, I've been seeing this idea floating around for awhile, where you take frozen pieces of banana, blend them, and they magically become this creamy, delicious, ice-cream like treat. And my reaction was pretty much like, "hmm...I am skeptical."
But today, I was cleaning my kitchen and found that my bunch of bananas from Sam's has already ripened past the stage I like to eat my bananas at (they were green when I got them 4 days ago!). So I chopped them into little coins, and popped them in my freezer. I figured, if nothing else, put them in smoothies or something. But then I remembered this whole "banana ice cream" thing.
So just now, I take some, pop them in my little food processor, start to blend and get...gritty little frozen pieces of banana--pretty much what I expected. But I decide to keep blending a little more, and add some peanut butter for good measure (because yum). And then...oh, and then. :-)
Does it taste like vanilla ice cream? No, it tastes like bananas--because, you know, bananas are the only ingredient. But maybe add a dash of sugar and a splash of vanilla, and you have yourself some banilla frozen treat. Mine was banana with a kick of peanut butter--I think I'll call it frozen Bananas Elvis. I saw someone online who added Nutella to theirs--OM NOM NOM.
You don't need the silly special machine they sell--I did mine in my little 4 cup Cuisinart, and others apparently have done theirs in a blender. But if you're trying to be a little better about your sweets, or if--like me--you just have some obscene amount of bananas that have ripened ridiculously fast that you need to use up, I would totally recommend trying this.
"Where's a picture?" you may be asking. "I'd like to see photographic evidence of this culinary miracle!" you might say.
Well, too bad. Because I ate it all before it even occurred to me to take a picture. Because it was delicious and melting. Make your own and then you can see it for yourself. :-)
So, I've been seeing this idea floating around for awhile, where you take frozen pieces of banana, blend them, and they magically become this creamy, delicious, ice-cream like treat. And my reaction was pretty much like, "hmm...I am skeptical."
But today, I was cleaning my kitchen and found that my bunch of bananas from Sam's has already ripened past the stage I like to eat my bananas at (they were green when I got them 4 days ago!). So I chopped them into little coins, and popped them in my freezer. I figured, if nothing else, put them in smoothies or something. But then I remembered this whole "banana ice cream" thing.
So just now, I take some, pop them in my little food processor, start to blend and get...gritty little frozen pieces of banana--pretty much what I expected. But I decide to keep blending a little more, and add some peanut butter for good measure (because yum). And then...oh, and then. :-)
Does it taste like vanilla ice cream? No, it tastes like bananas--because, you know, bananas are the only ingredient. But maybe add a dash of sugar and a splash of vanilla, and you have yourself some banilla frozen treat. Mine was banana with a kick of peanut butter--I think I'll call it frozen Bananas Elvis. I saw someone online who added Nutella to theirs--OM NOM NOM.
You don't need the silly special machine they sell--I did mine in my little 4 cup Cuisinart, and others apparently have done theirs in a blender. But if you're trying to be a little better about your sweets, or if--like me--you just have some obscene amount of bananas that have ripened ridiculously fast that you need to use up, I would totally recommend trying this.
"Where's a picture?" you may be asking. "I'd like to see photographic evidence of this culinary miracle!" you might say.
Well, too bad. Because I ate it all before it even occurred to me to take a picture. Because it was delicious and melting. Make your own and then you can see it for yourself. :-)
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