Confessions of a Sugar Nerd

The living moment is everything -  D. H. Lawrence

I realized I was different from other kids when I was about 7.  I started noticing that the day after Halloween, most kids would be virtual Sugar Zombies - wild-eyed from lack of sleep and too many Pixie Stix - clutching their stomachs in pain. I, on the other hand, was well rested with a tummy full of some sensible cereal and a banana.  While other kids scarfed their candy like the walking dead gorging brains, I ate about 4 well chosen pieces and put the rest neatly in my closet - a time capsule of Dum Dum pops, Lik-M-Aid, Double Bubble and the occasional full sized Snickers bar- all resting comfortably in an old pillowcase.  I would often retrieve the pillow case, open it up and take a deep whiff of that distinctive scent of all the candies in the world mixed together, and I would know nirvana.  On Easter, I would get another huge stash of candy.  This would replace my barely touched Halloween candy, which was, by now, stale and hard and would have to be thrown away.  Every year I would endeavor to do better by my candy, but the cycle would invariably repeat.  And so began my sordid life as a hoarder.

I am not like the hoarders featured on those horrible TV shows where people are buried in their stuff.  My house is very tidy and clutter-free.  I don't save empty soup cans or stockpile newspapers.  I am more of an experience hoarder.  I simply save things I really enjoy for the perfect moment that usually never comes. Sometimes it's clothing.  I have purchased dresses that were so swoon-worthy, I wanted to wait until the absolute BEST museum day or romantic dinner or fancy party to wear them, which usually meant that it languished in my closet for a year until it was shamefully out of style.  I put off reading my favorite magazines for the perfect sit-outside-with-a-glass-of-wine reading weather only to notice that my coveted Thanksgiving issue of Food & Wine was now irrelevant in February.  One time, my friend Kirsten and I spent hundreds of dollars on an order of fancy chocolates shipped from London.  She ate her allotment in a matter of days, gushing to me about how delicious they were, while mine sat in the freezer for 8 years until I moved and finally threw them out.

Christmas morning was always a weird scene in my house.  My sister, brother and I would get up at the crack of dawn and had to wait, in our matching pajamas, for our parents to set the stage.  Christmas music on, tree lights turned on, coffee going, and video camera readied.  When given the OK by Dad, we would run to our respective piles on the couch.  The moment I first spied my pile was the best part of Christmas for me - all the glory was before me.  My brother and sister would savagely tear through their presents in a matter of minutes, while I slowly savored each shiny wrapped package, careful not to tear the paper as I unwrapped it. I would examine all angles of each present, reading liner notes on record albums, the washing instructions of my new Sasson sweater or the dust jacket of the new Judy Blume book, before moving onto the next one.  I would be in a sort of gift rapture, extending the moment of each surprise for as long as possible, until I realized my whole family had been done for quite some time and they were all staring at me like I was a freak.

Wine is a great obsession for me because you are supposed to hoard it. Subsequently, I have about 300 bottles stashed in every closet in the house and spilling out of the guest bedroom.  If there is ever a natural disaster, come to my house - there will be a Bacchanalian extravaganza!

People often ask me how I don't gain a lot of weight with all the baking I do.  The answer is simple.  I don't eat it.  I taste it and then give it all away or stash it somewhere until it goes bad.  There have been plenty of times where I spent laborious hours, even days making some complicated confection and displayed it proudly on a vintage domed cake stand where it shimmered expectantly and full of promise. Soon, I would be overcome with guilt upon entering the kitchen.  Then I would start  avoiding the kitchen altogether.  A week later, my sweet would be droopy and misshapen and sad and I would have to put it out of its misery.  I feel terrible when this happens, like I have neglected my child.  I hear the echo of Sister Mary Lauren's voice whispering in my ear about the starving children too.

I like to imagine magical scenarios, where my baking does not go to waste.  One would go something like this:  after putting the finishing touches on a lemon chiffon cake with whipped cream icing and preserved lemon dust, someone just happens to drop by and I nonchalantly make some rose petal tea while cutting them a slice of cake.  They gasp in delight.  I do that "oh it's nothing" motion with my hand.  The Amelie soundtrack is playing in the background and I am wearing my favorite old apron with the polka dots.  We retire to the living room and have a grand old chat.  Cartoon hummingbirds flutter outside the window and the clink of Aunt Fran's vintage tea cups against the saucers is delightfully comforting. I go deeper into the fantasy...it was Gwyneth Paltrow who stopped by to invite me to a party and wants me to bring this cake.  I will wear that dress I have been saving for 7 months!  And, could I bring some wine?  I have a few bottles that would go great with your macrobiotic menu, Gwynnie!

Oprah has probably done a show about people like me - or worse yet, maybe Maury has.  While I work on mastering the 12 steps of instant gratification, I thought I would share some of my recent hoarding...um...baking projects.

BROWNIE BITES

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I made these back in November.  They are still resting comfortably within the deep recesses of  the freezer.

STRAWBERRY POP TARTS

These were incredibly time consuming and one recipe only made 9 tarts!   Because there were so few, I felt really precious about them.  Aaron eventually ate all 9.



RASPBERRY CHAMBORD BROWNIES

These were made for Valentine's Day tea.  There were so many left over.  Even full of booze, I didn't eat them.   They eventually had a romantic rendezvous with the trash can.

COCONUT LAYER CAKE

I made this for my friend Matt who I hadn't seen in a long time.  I didn't know he was vegan.  Oh sweet dairy, how I love thee!  This cake was amazing.   I kept waiting to eat some with Aaron, but he was working crazy hours.  After an extended holiday in the fridge, it got hard and the frosting oozed off.  A waste of excellent cream cheese goodness! 

APPLE PIE WITH CARAMEL FLEUR DE SEL ICE CREAM

I made this pie to bring to a dinner party.  It took me two days to make along with the ice cream.  Half of it came back home with us.  I should have known better.  I kept waiting for the perfect "apple pie" moment and the crust got too soggy.  

I actually did not hoard this ice cream.  It was the best ice cream I ever made.  In the past, I've made plenty of ice cream that sat in the freezer "waiting for company" until it resembled radiator fluid.

I know to appreciate something fully, you have to enjoy it, wear it, drink it, eat it.  I am trying to be better at that.  Just the other day, I took a lavender soda out of the fridge that I had been saving for over a year.  The stars were not aligned, the morning dew didn't glisten just so on the grass that morning.  I just decided "what the hell."  The soda happened to be dead flat and syrupy but the point is, it felt OK to be drinking a fancy beverage on a normal day.  Oh, and last week I bought a new outfit and wore it the next day!  I just remembered I have a box of See's candy that is only a month old.  I think I'll go gorge myself.  As if I were eating brains.