Valentines Day is coming. I'm not a personal fan of this holiday, although a few times in the past I've succumbed to social pressure to conform and observe the holiday. For the most part these days I personally do not. That is not to say that I don't realize how important the day is to other people, and thus working this bed and breakfast with additional baking as a huge part of my life the last year or so, well, things need to be special for the other people. I spent hours today in the kitchen testing a few recipes modified for the holiday. That means pink and red. I'm beyond frustrated dealing with big food companies trying desperately to figure out what decors are vegan, and which aren't. I cannot get a straight answer from any company I've reached out to. So, for now I'm doing things which don't require sprinkles, jimmies, or nonpareils. I do, however, have the ability to color my own sanding sugar, and so in a pinch I'll get by if I need something. I was working in the kitchen baking when I reached for my salt box and thought about my dad. One of the last gifts my father gave me before he died was a salt box for my birthday. Nothing big, nothing fancy, but I needed a salt box badly, and he gave me one. I've mentioned on here that I broke it shortly after he died. I was very upset when that happened, and I didn't replace it for a long time... years. Then one day a few months ago both of us happy vegans were in Key West and stumbled upon a nice little spice store that had a few types of salt boxes. The other happy vegan encouraged me to buy a new salt box. This certainly is not a frivolous item for someone in my trade at this point, nor is it an expensive item. So, I bought a salt box.
Today I was coloring sugar cookie dough with organic beet juice (fresh juiced from my Champion--a beast of a juicer!) when I reached for that salt box and was flooded with thoughts of dad. My dad and I spent enough Valentines Days together that it became a bit of a special father/daughter day for us for a long time. My entire adult life, I would always pick out a "I Love You Daddy" children's card to give to dad, make him something special, and we'd have dinner together that I usually prepared. Dad didn't much care for Valentine's Day either, so we were good on that. And, we so loved spending time together, it's not that we needed a holiday excuse to see each other.
So, my red dough and the salt box were the triggers today for a walk down memory lane. You never know what it will be when seemingly you're just cruising along minding your own business, then WHAM thoughts of something you didn't even know you remembered come flying back in technicolor. Today I remembered a Valentine's dinner that my dad and I had together out at an Italian restaurant. We were two misplaced souls wearing black in a sea of red dresses, red ties and red roses. We laughed pretty hard that night. I remembered the wine we drank together, and the beautiful dessert we shared. It was a small, but tall, round cake that was iced in white and covered with red polka dots. I remembered that both of us were sitting at the table--he with his espresso, me with a cappuccino--both so reluctant to destroy the little work of art that sat before us. We did eventually go for the cake forks a flying (it WAS chocolate under that dotty frosting after all!) but I wondered what made me even remember that night, that cake, and those polka dots from so many years ago. I guess it was the salt box, maybe it has magical powers.
I'll be hitting the dough again pretty hard tomorrow. I wonder what other forgotten secrets will be in the batches.
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