I’ve been experimenting quite a bit recently with caramel (not “carmel”, like Newfoundlanders and many Americans call it, that drives me bonkers) corn — something to which I am entirely addicted, but usually too lazy to make. I think I’ve finally come up with a recipe I like, however, so now you can have it. This version is plain jane, but feel free to jazz it up with chopped salted nuts for extra pizzazz.
First, start with 10 cups popped popcorn. This is generally about 1 cup of the unpopped stuff. We don’t have an air popper here, and I’m afraid of the chemicals in microwave packets, so I’ll let you in on how I make my own popcorn (when I’m not doing it this way). Take about 1/3 cup of popcorn and plop it in the bottom of a brown paper lunch bag.
Fold the top edge down once and then again, over itself.
Put that on its side in your microwave and cook away. Every microwave is different when it comes to popcorn, but I’ve found that on mine, cooking it for 2 minutes and 35 seconds on power level 9 (out of 10) pops nearly every kernel, every time, without burning anything. Make sure to save people’s teeth by sifting out all the unpopped kernels before you use this stuff.
Now, preheat your oven to 250°F and spray a large roasting pan. I used the one I save for turkey time. You could also use a large metal bowl if that’s all you have. Plop your popcorn in the roasting pan for now.
Scrounge around and find yourself a wooden spoon (always preferable to metal in candy making), a spatula, a whisk, and a candy thermometer. Keep those all handy.
Find a large pot, too, and plop in 1 cup butter, 2 cups brown sugar, 1/2 cup corn syrup (any colour, doesn’t matter), and 1/2 teaspoon salt.
On the side, have two small dishes ready with 1/2 teaspoon baking soda and 2 teaspoons vanilla.
Bring the contents of the pot to a boil, stirring often, and clip the candy thermometer to the side. The reason you use the wooden spoon here is because sugar crystallizes more quickly on metal than wood, and crystallization is not what you want at this particular juncture.
Once the mixture starts boiling, stir it constantly for 1 minute.
Then take the spoon out and let it boil on its own for 5 minutes. It’s going to boil up pretty high, so make sure you use a large pot for this. At this point, your candy thermometer should be reading 250°F, which is the magic number for the hard ball stage — exactly what we want.
Turn off the heat and stir your mixture for about a minute. Then remove it entirely from the heat.
Whisk in your vanilla and baking soda. It will fizz up, so be careful. See how the texture and colour has changed? Well, you can’t in that photo because it’s a terrible photo, but it will become smooth and a light opaque brown almost immediately. Keep whisking until it more or less stops fizzing.
Slowly and in a controlled stream, pour your caramel over your waiting popcorn, mixing with a spatula. Don’t worry if you don’t get it entirely incorporated.
I suggest leaving all your caramel tools soaking in hot water for a few minutes. It makes cleanup so much easier.
Pop the roasting pan filled with popcorn in the oven and bake it for an hour, stirring it all over every 15 minutes. While the caramel had started to harden on you before you stuck it in there, baking it at this low heat enables it to ooze all over the place and cover everything evenly.
So when you’re stirring, make sure to scrape the bottom of the pan, because you will always find a nice puddle of caramel down there.
Spread a counter with waxed paper and spray it, too. Once the hour is up, take the pan from the oven and spread the popcorn in a thin layer on the waxed paper to cool. Squish it down with your spatula to spread it out. Doing that now will make it both cool faster and be easier to separate after it’s cooled.
Once it has fully cooled, break it up into pieces and store it in a sealed container for up to a few days.
Or package it in wee bags for a bake sale, which is what I did.
I found the “Hello” stickers lying around in my office supply cupboard. I figured what the heck, eh?























































































































Gently steam the broccoli florets (this is from four small heads of broccoli) just until they’re a bright green. You don’t want to over-cook them as they’ll cook further inside the egg pie.

In a bowl, whisk together six eggs. Add in 1/2 cup milk and whisk that sucker around. Sprinkle in a dash of nutmeg, as well as a pinch of salt and season with ground pepper. The Pie can’t taste the nutmeg, but I can.






Salads here in Newfoundland is a rare t’ing, b’y. At least for us. It’s hard to get vegetables that you want to look at that closely.
The trick with a good vinaigrette is in the emulsification of the olive oil with the vinegar. You can do this by shaking it vigourously in a closed container, or by whipping it to a frenzy with a whisk. The choice is yours.
Here we’ve got about two tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, three tablespoons vintage balsamic vinegar, a teaspoon dried basil and another teaspoon minced garlic. But you can put whatever you want in there.
I have designated certain days in my life as chocolate cake days. You know, those days where things tend to go wrong, and you end up with 
Butter up two 9″ x 2″ cake pans and place pretty circles of parchment paper (not to be mistaken with waxed paper, that would be a bad idea) in the bottom of each. I used a compass because I have a good attention to detail (the Pie called me a nerd for doing so but HE’s the one who wrote a remote sensing exam today). Put those pans somewhere and work on the other stuff.

Add 2 eggs, one at a time. Don’t forget to scrape down the sides of the bowl on occasion.




You can tell it’s done when you stick a toothpick in the centre and it comes out clean. I found that mine took an extra five minutes. Make sure the cake is completely cool before you think about icing it. When removing from the pan, run a spatula around the edge to loosen the sucker. Due to time constraints, I actually made up the cake part the day before, then wrapped it tightly in plastic over night, and made the frosting the next day.
In a double boiler or a bowl set over (but not touching) a pot of barely simmering water, melt 10 oz good quality chocolate (your preference for the type) in 1/2 cup cream. Just so you know, an ounce of chocolate is one of those squares in the boxes of baking chocolate.

Remove from heat and cut in 3/4 cup butter. Whisk until butter is thoroughly melted and mixed in and the mixture is smooth and velvety. Let your ganache cool until it’s spreadable, which could take up to an hour (your cake will take probably this long to cool anyway). Be sure to give the cooled ganache a good whisk to fluff it up a little.

I made another modification here. I took the leftover frozen glaze from the previous angel’s food cake and decided to put it on this one as well. It seemed fitting. All I did was defrost the glaze and whisk it up a little. It was slightly lumpy after its time in the freezer but it tasted the same.



Angel food is one of my favourite cakes, always has been, even since I was a child. My mother would rarely make it because without a stand mixer it’s kind of a pain in the ass. With my lovely Kitchenaid this whole shebang is a breeze.



Gently scoop the mixture into a spotlessly clean and un-greased tube pan (grease + meringues = not so good). Level the top with a spatula and ease it into the oven for 35 minutes, until the top is a lovely golden brown.












