Once a month, I meet with a group of fellow artists.

Trillium and Bloodroot Kathy Fiske

Tea Art by Barbara Bartlett

Our group is Art Wise Women and you can see more by clicking on this link or by going to www.ArtWiseWomen.blogspot.com.

After we have caught up with tales of travel, news of children and grandchildren, wild animal sightings and gardens, we talk about new projects, successes and failures in our studios and upcoming shows;  we move on to more philosophical topics like ‘dealing with isolation as an artist’, ‘where to find inspiration’, ‘what does it mean to be an artist’.

At our last meeting, I realized that one of my favorite creative activities takes place in my kitchen rather than in my studio. Baking a cake for a dinner party is filled with artistic decisions: What will it look like? What will it taste like? How will I decorate it? The process ends with a plate, empty except for a few sweet crumbs and the anticipation of the next gathering when I will happily offer to bring dessert.

Recently, I wanted to make a cake that would welcome our friends who had returned to Vermont after spending five months in Australia. A hummingbird cake sounded just right. I assumed that since there were lots of hummingbirds in Australia that a hummingbird cake had to be Australian. My research quickly revealed three facts:

• There are no recorded sightings of hummingbirds in Australia;
• Hummingbird cakes are a specialty of the American south; and,
• It’s called a hummingbird cake because each bite makes one hum with delight.

Undaunted by these facts, I made my version of a Vermont hummingbird cake for the party. Here’s how I did it: … read more

When I was a child, a red and white aerosol can of Reddi-wip often appeared with dessert. White fluff spurted out when I pushed the nozzle. It was fun to dispense it directly from the can into my mouth, it was great ammunition in a food fight and its appearance promised that dessert would be either an ice cream sundae or a slice of pumpkin pie.

Invented in 1948, it uses nitrous oxide as a propellant for a mixture of cream, sweeteners and stabilizers and was a definite step up from its predecessor, a cream substitute made with vegetable oil, called Sta-Whip.

The chocolate whipped-cream cake I chose from an upscale bakery for my seventh birthday was my cream epiphany. It was covered with real whipped cream, without nitrous oxide, corn syrup, artificial flavor, monoglycerides, or carrageen. I’m not implying that at seven I was an informed foodie, however, even then I knew that heavy cream, beaten until stiff with was sublime.

Since that birthday, if a chocolate cake isn’t frosted with real whipped cream, I don’t think it deserves to be called a birthday cake. As a young cook, the birthday cakes I made began as a cake mix, but as a young mother I decided that my sons deserved birthday cakes made from scratch. Our family’s traditional birthday cake is a rum infused, dark chocolate cake, slathered with whipped cream. The cream is still whipped by hand, but now I use a wire whisk instead of the hand-cranked mixer I used as a child.

Sunday will be my younger son’s birthday. If Matthew were living on this side of the Atlantic Ocean, I would make his birthday cake rather than sending this to his wife.

Dear Alison,

Here’s the recipe for Matthew’s birthday cake: … read more

A jar of caramel sauce is an investment in a sweet future.

It’s great on vanilla ice cream, luxurious on apple crisp, divine on top of chocolate ice cream and under whipped cream, and irresistible on a spoon right out of the jar. Here’s how I made it: … read more

Once I had mastered peanut brittle, I moved onto what I called caramel custard.

Years later, I learned that Julia Child called it creme caramel and in Mexico and Spain it was called flan. No matter the name, the process is the same. Here’s how I made enough for four people: … read more