Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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Toffee and the Seven Deadly Sins

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Brown sugar, pecans, chocolate, and butter are simple ingredients but when combined, heated, and transformed into candy, they have the power to turn me to the dark side. I am helpless to fight the seduction of toffee. I think the delicious treat is the work of the devil exemplified through the Seven Deadly Sins.

  1. Greed. The sweet confection makes me a greedy, cheating hoarder. A neighbor gave me a can of Almond Roca, and I immediately hid it so my husband or children couldn’t enjoy a single piece. I don’t care. It’s all mine, mine, mine.
  1. Gluttony. Toffee leads me into temptation. I cannot have one piece. I will stand until my feet spread and consume an entire batch and not stop to breathe until I have licked every morsel from the platter. I’m not proud of this fact.
  1. Lust. I’m addicted to exquisitely-crafted homemade toffee. However, on days of desperation, I’ll settle for a mediocre sample from a truck stop, the kind that is too brittle or stale. I crave the taste, and I want more. Now.
  1. Envy. I can’t pass a candy store without gazing in the window and slobbering over festive trays of caramels covered with chocolate and nuts. I’m jealous of people buying and tasting toffee that should belong to me.
  1. Anger. I’m equally mad about two issues: when the toffee is gone and when I step on the scale and see that eating all that gooey goodness makes me weigh the same as a compact car. I’m far over the weight I was decades ago at nine-months pregnant when I wailed about my rotund girth before giving birth.
  1. Pride. I’ll labor for hours to create the perfect recipe for almond toffee. Then I’ll post photos on every social media platform to let the world know that I did it and I’m going to eat it. Ha!
  1. Sloth. After waddling through decades of tasting toffee, it’s apparent that I’m as lethargic as a bowl of thick butter on a humid afternoon. Especially during the holidays, toffee saps my energy, and all I want to do is sit in a dark room and chew. Sometimes I pull empty Almond Roca foil wrappers out of the waste basket just to smell them. I’ve taken pathetic to a new level, and I need counseling.

To atone for my many sins, I’ve decided to share and give back to society. In the spirit of generosity, here is my recipe for English Toffee:

toffee

Ingredients:

1 Cup butter

1-1/4 Cups sugar, brown or white

2 Tablespoons water

½ Cup chopped pecans

1 Cup milk chocolate chips

Butter a 10X15 inch pan.

Melt butter in heavy skillet over medium heat and stir with a wooden spoon. Stir in sugar and water. Bring to a boil and add the pecans. Cook, stirring constantly until nuts are toasted and the sugar is dissolved. Pour in the buttered pan. Be sure to lick the spoon. Spread chocolate chips on top. Cool. Break into pieces. Eat half and share the rest.

My New Year’s resolution – again – is to lose weight and be healthier. I will consume fresh vegetables and fruit, exercise, and prepare nutritious meals. Maybe I’ll create a new recipe for zucchini and kale toffee. With enough butter, sugar and nuts, it could be delicious.

 

 

Defending Those Who Protect and Serve

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As a professional writer and award-winning journalist, I’m offering my services for free to the Idaho Statesman. I’ll research and write a feature article describing positive stories about Idaho law enforcement officers. The article must be given three pages, including the lead story on the front page on a Sunday edition. Editor Vicki Gowler, vgowler@idahostatesman.com, can email me at elaine@elaineambrose.com for the assignment.

The Idaho Statesman devoted three pages of yesterday’s Sunday’s paper to a “SPECIAL REPORT” about police “officer-involved deaths on the rise.” For her research, “watchdog” reporter Cynthia Sewell copied information already published on The Guardian’s “The Counted Project,” a website that includes photos and descriptions of people killed by police officers. Two recent photos are of Syed Farook and Tashfeen Malik – the evil murderers of the San Bernardino massacre. Personally, I have no problem with those officer-involved shootings. The majority of workers in law enforcement are good people who would appreciate some balanced reporting.

I’ll be waiting for the project.

Adult Coloring Books have Issues, Too

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I don't have time for this shit.
I don’t have time for this shit.

A recent article in the online Atlantic Monthly noted that stressed people are using coloring books to relieve existential angst. Apparently, to supply the global demand, upscale retailers such as Yves Saint Laurent and Hermès offer adult coloring books for $160. For about the same cost, I’d rather doodle on a napkin in a wine bar and enjoy a bottle of Quintessa Red Wine from Rutherford in Napa Valley.

“Just because everyone is doing it doesn’t mean you need to do it,” I’m reminded of my mother’s admonishments during my formative years. “If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you follow them?”

Mom wasn’t too original in her advice strategy.

But, I can’t endorse the new addiction for adult coloring. Even as a wee child I didn’t enjoy coloring because I couldn’t stay within the lines. Never have, never will. Who can sit still when there are butterflies to chase, frogs to catch, and pebbles to toss into the pond?

adult coloring

 

In the spirit of positive adventure, I tried the free online samples. The outcome was disastrous. I only can conclude that I don’t have time for this shit.

If other adults want to seek catharsis by way of colored pencils, that’s fine with me. I agree with professionals who claim that art can be therapeutic. However, I’m reminded of several artists through history who were not at peace with the universe or themselves.

Vincent Van Gogh was reported to be insane and depressed between manic bursts of creative energy. Pablo Picasso had issues as did Fransisco Goya and Salvador Dali. Famed artist Georgia O’Keeffe suffered an intense nervous breakdown and needed to stop painting for several years. And, who can forget Edvard Munch? It’s been speculated that his famous painting of The Scream was a portal into his own anxiety, hallucinations, and subsequent psychotic breakdown.

scream

I acknowledge that millions of adults are coloring and creating works of art in an attempt to soothe their troubled waters and find inner tranquility. That’s fine with me. Just leave me alone to self-medicate with a bold Cabernet. I promise I won’t cut off my ear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Make Candy Trains: They Magically Disappear

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This festive family tradition began more than 30 years ago.
This festive family tradition began more than 30 years ago.

Mix three wonderful items — kids, Christmas, and candy — and create some fun and lasting memories by making candy trains. They are magic because they disappear before New Year’s Eve.

We first made candy trains more than 30 years ago when my two children were toddlers. Now, their children and I meet on a Saturday each December to make trains. It’s a tradition that gets better every year. The mothers and I have added a new ritual that makes everything more festive: we enjoy a glass of wine while the little ones concentrate on frosting and candy. By the end of the day, everyone is happy. Sugar rush? Who cares?

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Candy trains make wonderful holiday centerpieces, and they’re also fun gifts for neighbors and friends. To make trains and traditions of your own, you’ll need the following supplies:

Cardboard
Tinfoil and tape
A few cans of white frosting
Strings of red licorice
Candy: M&Ms, unwrapped candy bars, unwrapped round red and white mints, chocolate kisses, life savers, square mints in foil, anything else you want. (Frozen leftovers from Halloween work well.)

Cut up a cardboard box and tape several sturdy pieces together for the platform. Cover it with tinfoil and tape on the bottom to secure.

Spread white frosting on the cardboard for snow. Place two strips of licorice over the frosting for the tracks. Squish one candy bar into the frosting near the end of the platform. Cut a candy bar in half and “glue” with frosting to the top of the first candy bar. See the engine taking shape?

Now, glue the round wheels onto the candy bar. Glue M&Ms into the center of each wheel. Glue a chocolate kiss onto the front for the cow catcher. Use unwrapped lifesavers on the engine for the smoke stack. Repeat with more cars, adding wheels and more candy. Allow the children to create their own masterpieces. We’re talking about future engineers here! You may need to establish parameters ahead of time: the designers only can eat four pieces of candy and four tastes of the frosting during the assembly.

After the edible art is finished, everyone celebrates with hot cocoa. Then the kids can proudly take home their trains to display on the kitchen counter. If you have a cat, you may need to cover the train or leave the cat outside until January. (In case defensive pet lovers don’t know, that was a joke.)

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Over the next few days, the train gradually disappears. One M&M is missing, a chocolate kiss disappears, and then a chunk of candy bar is gone. How does that happen? As we all know, the season is full of mystery and magic, and it makes me happy to watch my children and their children enjoy a special family tradition. After we tuck the little ones into bed, we often stand and gaze at them sleeping and imagine visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads. Somewhere, I can hear Tiny Tim saying, “God bless us. Every one!”

 

(Published on The Huffington Post in December 2014)

Guest Blogger Ruth Knox Describes Idaho Writer’s Retreat

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Ruth Knox, left, and Christy Hovey discuss writing goals.
Ruth Knox, left, and Christy Hovey discuss writing goals.

 

The Guest Blogger today is Ruth Knox, a writer from Boise, Idaho. She attended our writer’s retreat in October and was inspired to finish the first draft of her novel. Here is her review of the retreat. (The next Creative Kindling Retreat is April 29-May 1, 2016.)

The Word by Ruth Knox

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Saturday night. A bunch of giggling women are gathered at night in the dark woods behind the Garden Valley cabin, taking part in a wilderness survival exercise put on by workshop leaders, Christy Hovey and Amanda Turner. Elaine Ambrose, who is hosting this writers retreat for women is there, giggling right along with us. This is my first ever Creative Kindling Women’s Writing Retreat, and this little workshop goes to show you that you never know what’s going to happen when you get together with this bunch. I can’t divulge details. What happens at the cabin stays at the cabin. We didn’t pinky-swear or anything, but you just know there are some things of which you must never speak. Sisterhood and all that.

On Sunday morning, I’m sitting in a big ol’ rocking chair on the veranda, watching the mist play along the river bank. Just a few yards from the porch, deer are lazily grazing. It’s like a picture out of a story book, but it’s real. We’re sipping our coffee, cradling our steamy mugs in both hands. A fire in the hearth completes this perfect setting. The usually still morning air is alive with women’s laughter. Welcome to our women’s writing retreat.

When we arrived on Friday afternoon, most of us didn’t know each other. Now it’s Sunday, and we are reluctant to break this magic spell of camaraderie and leave our new friends to return to our busy lives in the city. If I had to say how they managed to pull off this magic transformation in less than 48 hours, I, the writer of words, would have no answer. Maybe it is our hosts and mentors, Elaine Ambrose, Amanda Turner, and Christy Hovey. Each has specific skill sets that every writer needs, and when you put them all together at this retreat, you get what I like to refer to as the Power Pack.

Not only did they host workshops with invaluable information, they each gave us a two-hour, one-on-one private session to work on our own specific current writing project. This is where the real gold is in this weekend retreat. This kind of personal coaching is not something you have available at most retreats. They also limit the number of attendees so that the feel is intimate and comfortable, and everyone has time to address any questions they have. As well, this made it easy to get to know the other attendees, and develop a rapport which made learning together fun.

In my case, I am currently working on a non-fiction book, Caregiver’s Quilt. When I arrived on Friday, I was stuck, bogged down in details and self-doubt about my ability to complete this project. Yes, I’d done plenty of writing over the years, but not a full length book, and this felt daunting. I didn’t know how to take my ideas and tame them into a usable book outline. Elaine worked with me on blogging, which gave me a better understanding of how a blog can help me write my book and gain readership. Amanda worked with me on my outline, and how to break my big book idea down into manageable sized chunks. Christy helped me get a handle on how to use social media to find my readers, and hold their interest.

Because we not only played hard this weekend, we worked hard too. Our attendees ran from fairly new to seasoned writers. It didn’t matter. We each found something we needed to move us along our writer’s path. Each of us came away with a sense of exhilaration. We were going home with something tangible to work on. And we got something more – a sense of sisterhood, and some new friends. Our attendees decided to form an accountability group, meeting for lunch once a month to update each other on our progress.

It was a wonderful experience. Sharing our ideas and projects with one another bolstered our confidence and our belief in our own project. It took something intensely personal and solitary and gave it life in the real world. Each of us challenged ourselves by reading some of our writing aloud to the group. We were met with encouragement and applause.

Our first workshop was on Friday night. After we dined like royalty on a delicious feast that chef, Robert prepared for us, we gathered around the table. Coffee and wine flowed in abundance. Elaine chose the subject “Music as Muse” for her workshop. The idea was that by using guided imagery, we would open ourselves up to memories and write about them, knowing we didn’t have to share them with anyone if we chose. I’m not going to lie. It was a difficult exercise. With the help of music, we silently revisited the most painful and the most joyful experiences of our lives. As much as I didn’t like revisiting painful memories, I have to admit that this exercise opened me up. And from that place of honest vulnerability I became ready to receive all that the weekend had to offer.

If you decide to honor your writing-self by attending the next retreat, come with a specific project in mind and come prepared to work hard. As well, come prepared to laugh. A lot. The next retreat will probably be in April. Plan now to be there. Opportunities like this don’t come often. Would I go again? In a heartbeat. I’m already feeding my piggy bank.

(Read more from Ruth Knox at https://ruthknox.wordpress.com/ and follow her on Facebook.)