Skip to main content

Making Cannolis

My children have apparently inherited my husbands affinity for trying new foods, because my son asked me to make cannolis for his birthday.  None of us has ever had them before...so I didn't even know what to look for in a recipe. I just found one with a lot of reviews that were mostly good and went for it.

I don't cook with wine a lot because we're not big drinkers and I don't keep wine around the house.  But all the recipes I found called for dry white wine. I didn't even know what a dry white wine is. Google is my friend. I was actually pretty skeptical about the need for wine in the shell. The dough didn't smell particularly good and I even considered skipping the wine and using a more desirable ingredient. But I ended up sticking to the recipe in the end.

Get this though, the girl at the checkout counter didn't card me. I mean, she didn't even bat an eye, she just rang me up. My life flashed before my eyes. Really?! I'm old enough to not be carded? I totally felt like those women in sitcoms who flip out and demand to show their ID anyway. I didn't. But I felt like it.

So anyway, I dug into the cannoli making process.

So technically you're supposed to use forms during the frying process to create the cannoli shape but I didn't want to buy them until I knew whether or not cannolis would be a repeat item in our food repretoire. So I "made do". Just in case you ever wondered, the handles of whisks are not cannoli forms, although they look like they are and perform decently (except when water got lodged inside the handle and I didn't realize it and created some fireworks when I put it in the hot oil!) in the absence of real cannoli forms.

The actual process of forming and frying the cannolis was an awkward and not very successful endeavor at first. But with every cannoli I was able to identify a problem and solve it with the next one and within a few rounds, I was able to make perfectly formed and perfectly crisp cannolis shells.

It kind of struck me how similar life is to my cannoli experience.  We don't come into this life with the ability to make perfect decisions every time. We try, we mess up and we try again with a better idea of how to get it right. If I had decided that making cannolis was too hard after the first one, or if I had not actively learned from every mistake and worked to correct it, our cannoli experience would have been a lot less pleasant.

I get so tired of making mistakes and not getting things right. It's not always about a lack of knowledge, sometimes it's just a lack of implementing that knowledge. I've heard people say things like "if you want to know how to eat healthy or exercise effectively, ask an overweight person" and sadly, that is very much the case in a lot of circumstances...at least in my life.

The thing is though, sometimes I'm too dense to learn whatever it is that God is trying to teach me. So much of what I always assumed about God and my relationship with Him is either totally false or completely misunderstood.

I always thought that as I got older that I would FEEL wiser, but to be honest, while I can SEE growth in my life, I feel more ignorant and flawed than ever. And as silly as it sounds, I feel like God has totally broken down my old preconceptions about Him and is teaching me what's real. And so much of the time I read the "recipe" and decide that the ingredients or process called for isn't really necessary so I skip it or substitute and then completely miss out on the delicious result to be disappointed by my own creation. I'm trying so hard that I miss out on what God has for me. Instead of being still and seeing His glory, I try to create it on my own.

Doesn't work.

God's plan is beautiful and perfect. His thoughts and ways are infinitely above my own, so even when it doesn't make sense or doesn't feel like I think it should, I have to learn to be still. To trust Him and rely on His goodness instead of trying to help Him out.

Cannoli verdict? The shells were amazing. I'll definitely make them again (and I'm so glad I went with the wine!). The cream filling? Eh. We'll have to tweak that a bit.




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Who is Gonna Tell the Child?

Last night, for the first time, our family had the privilege of attending an Eagle Scout ceremony. 
Our oldest boys were asked to be a part of the ceremony.  They were put in charge of the ceremonial fire.  Fire.  In a public building full of people and expensive things. FIRE. :)

As a recovering helicopter parent I appreciate situations like this one because I almost always learn something from them.

I've read a lot of parenting books. But in recent years I think that God has really redefined my view of my job as a parent. I see my job as more of a guide. I give them a job, some instructions if/when necessary and then I step back to let them figure it out. It's my job to get them ready to fly off into the sunset without me.

Events like this one often teach me about an area where I haven't given them growing room. So I go away better prepared and more enlightened about what my kids are capable of.

Anyway, one of my favorite parts of the ceremony happened when the young man …

Help Wanted

The other night I saw the movie The Help. I read the book a few months ago and I couldn't put it down!!

While I will admit that I did enjoy the book a bit more than the movie (some of the castings didn't seem quite right to me) I did enjoy both a good deal.

What gets me most in stories like that (and about the Holocaust) is not the actual perpetrators of the crimes...because they actually are deluded into thinking they are right (and as much as I hate to admit it...and I pray it is not to that grotesque extent...we all have blind spots). What gets me is the people who see that the crimes are wrong but are too afraid of what will happen to them or what their friends will think if they actually do the right thing (like Skeeter's mother).

Well, I know you'll probably find this dramatic...but from what I hear people who blog tend to be on the dramatic side...so...I guess it's to be expected.

Today while I was walking home from my 5k training there was a woman unloading…

Exhibit A

Being the mom of five wild indians makes my life interesting.

Exhibit A:

Yesterday I loaded them all into our Wild Indian Wagon and stopped to get gas.

Okay, so apparently our local fillin' station has had problems with people leaving the pump nozzles clicked down and spilling gas everywhere so they took the little whatchamacallits that hold the trigger on the nozzle down off. And a 47 gallon tank  takes a while to fill when you've run the tank purty near empty.

Meanwhile...back at the ranch...err...back inside the Wild Indian Wagon...my very wild Wild Indians decided to reenact Custer's Last Stand...on a very small scale since I'm pretty sure Custer and the Native Americans had a much larger space to battle it out in than the backseat of a Suburban.

I'm pretty sure you couldn't get hydraulics to make that thang move in the way it was moving. For reals...you know in cartoons when a group of kids gets into a fight and all you see is a cloud? There's a reaso…

Gettin' Real

It's no secret that I was pregnant when I got married (I do want to be clear, getting pregnant was not the sin, the actions that led to it are).  I'm pretty open about it.  Not because I'm proud, I am absolutely NOT proud of it.  But it's my past.  It's my story. It's my mess. It's part of the story of how God has redeemed my life from the pit.

I am saved. My sins are gone, I've been set free.

I'm still learning to live in a constant state of free-ness...I have a tendency to fall under my own condemnation. It's a work in progress! I am a work in progress.

Here's the deal though, I want to speak to those who might find themselves in a cycle of sin similar to the one I found (actually, I didn't FIND anything, I PUT myself there...let's just be honest about it) myself in. I know that the chances of this helping anyone are slim. I'm not eloquent and typically only the people who really love me even read what I write. But I want to s…

Rejected!

I received a rejection letter today.

Before you feel the need to comfort me, please know that I'm completely fine.

A while back I learned that (in)Courage was accepting submissions for blog posts to be used on their site. It needed to be something original that had not been previously published and it should fit the tone for the site and the theme for the time frame it would be published.

I immediately wanted to submit something. I wanted honest feedback about my writing from someone who doesn't already love me or like me or feel connected to me in some way. But I decided that I was not going to submit anything unless I felt prompted by God to do it. I wasn't going to force it. (On a side, but relevant, note I'm actually not sure if I stuck to this decision. I'm still asking God to open my eyes to blindness and denial...so He may reveal to me that I didn't wait for Him at all...that I jumped ahead in my own timing instead of His.)

So one night I sat down and wr…