Trapped in a YouTube Bullet Journal Vortex

Back in 2015 when I was off work because I was sick with mono, I passed the days with Pinterest and Netflix. I even ended up pursuing new hobbies, like wood burning, because they were the current trend. In fact, I overdid it so much with both Netflix and Pinterest that I’ve never really gotten back into either. Sure, I still periodically watch something on Netflix because a friend mentions a show or I open Pinterest to find a recipe I pinned during what I've termed "the mono period," but I don’t indulge in marathons all that much anymore.

Last week, however, while I was off work again, I found a whole new vortex in which to become trapped: the black hole that is bullet journaling on YouTube.

Wow. Seriously. Wow.

I mean, I had seen a few videos on bullet journaling over the past two years -- enough to know it was a thing, anyway -- but I hadn’t actually done a deep dive into it as a lifestyle (to call it anything less wouldn’t capture how encompassing it appears to be). There’s little question that the ornate style with hand lettering using brush-tipped markers is beautiful and appealing. But how does one find time to do that? Often the pages are sketched out in pencil first before being traced in pen or marker and enhanced with colour and, of course, populated with content. Custom calendars, spreads, and layouts. Collections of collections (movies, books, bucket lists, podcasts). Habit trackers, meal planners, mood trackers. Social media accounts and their reach. Doodle pages. It seems endless. And how valuable is it?

(Disclaimer: I am aware that the ornate version was not the intent of the original bullet journal method, but it’s become a phenomenon unto itself.)

I recently saw an ever-so-helpful post on Facebook reminding people that they have the same number of hours in their day as Beyonce and that it’s all in how you use your time. I'm not sure comparing oneself to Queen Bey is fair. I bet she doesn’t have to wash dishes or pick up groceries or spend hours on end arguing with telecommunications businesses to get good service at a decent price (an annual saga for many of us).

Still, I understand that we all choose how we invest our time. And I don't in any way judge those who choose to invest theirs in bullet journals. I just would truly like to understand how much time goes into creating these layouts, populating them, and revising them. And beyond that, do they work? Are people getting out of them what they want and need? I've seen a lot of flip-through videos where a layout is described as not having worked for the user or where the user just stopped filling it out part way through the month. More than that, is it really better than the plethora of digital solutions we already have at our fingertips? I already have a Fitbit that tracks my exercise, which I then track in Sparkpeople because I prefer their system. Do I also need to colour a block in my planner? 

I say this as someone who was a devout user of a planner for decades. I always purchased the academic year instead of the calendar year. I liked the week-at-a-glance layout. My preference was for coil bound. But even I -- who in grad school coached a university professor on how to use a planner effectively -- have switched entirely to an electronic calendar. It wasn't by choice -- I still prefer a paper planner. That feeling when you've found the perfect paper and your pencil glides smoothly across the surface as you write cannot be matched! And I still feel lost in August when I am not out shopping for this year's make and model. But, in our tech-based world, I just can't see a reason to duplicate my effort. I would either have to transcribe electronic calendars into analog or vice versa because at work we use calendar invitations. [And I'm aware that for some people it causes frustration if all of an individual's appointments aren't logged there when it comes time to pick a meeting date and time.] So, it just isn't practical.

Still, I love stationary -- and notebooks in particular. Heck, as you all know, I actually make my own as a hobby (for example, this one, this one, and this one). So I feel compelled to get into bullet journaling just to use up my notebooks! At least I did until I found a new black hole on YouTube. There are videos on how to use your notebooks. Clearly, I'm not the only person with this issue.

And so after several hours of watching videos of how to use up notebooks, let me draw the following conclusions to save you some time:
1) They basically just suggest that you expand your bullet journaling to multiple volumes, putting your collections into their own distinct notebooks (for example, a travel notebook, a one-line-a-day notebook, a gratitude notebook, etc).
2) Notebooks can also serve as a practice space for your bullet journaling (hand lettering, borders, etc).

Interestingly, none of the videos I watched suggested you turn an unused notebook into a recipe book -- I guess handwriting recipes is too old school even for the bujo fanatics.

So, what would I do with my notebooks?

I tried a habit tracker. I made a few pages while watching TV. Every time the pen slipped and resulted in a less than perfect line, a little piece of me died. This is not an activity for someone who is Type A or a "perfectionist" -- I abandoned it.

Next, I thought about this blog and how sometimes I find it hard to remember what I've already blogged about or to come up with a topic if I'm in a blogging mood. I decided a log of the posts and their topics at the front of the journal and a list of future blog posts at the back of the journal might actually be helpful. I added dates. When I decided yesterday to schedule a few old posts on Twitter as #ThrowbackThursday content, it was actually helpful -- easier to flip through than to scroll and search on Blogger. But, of course, the Type A in me isn't loving the experience. Somehow while writing out my blog titles, two pages stuck together and upon my final flip-through, I discovered two blank pages right in the middle.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Incredibly annoyed with myself, I sketched out the Blogger logo to fill the space, but will probably eventually take a glue stick to it so that I don't have to be reminded on a daily basis of my error.

I'm really not cut out for this. Too much Brain, not enough Heart for bullet journals maybe?

I think in the future, I'll use my notebooks for note-taking the way I used to in grad school.

I'm still buying the brush-tip markers though...

I Only Need One Good One to Photograph

For a while now, I've been wanting to try making macarons. They seem to have become trendy, based on all of the YouTube videos that have been posted in the last two years. They also seem to be commonly sold at chocolate shops, so during my Professional Chocolatier program, I kept seeing pictures of them in display cases at chocolateries and even stumbled upon packaging for them while conducting research for one of my assignments. While always in the back of my mind, though, they seemed like too much work whenever I was in the mood to make something. There's something about whipping egg whites that just puts a recipe in another category for me.

Then a few weeks ago, I was at Stokes and saw silicone macaron baking sheets. Impulsively, I bought them. And then they sat on my dining room table taunting me until finally I decided I must use them.

Now, everything I've read says that even professionals have trouble periodically with macarons, so you shouldn't be disappointed if they don't work the first few tries. Persistence is key. Fair enough, I thought. I only need one good one to photograph.

And so I separated eggs and sifted almond flour, I whipped and I folded. (As I wrote that, lyrics flashed through my head: "Now watch me whip. Now watch me nae nae...") And I piped.

And I waited.

And eventually, the skin formed and I was able to pop them into the oven to bake. Everything was going beautifully until I took them out. Some were cracked. Some were lopsided. Some seemed to be hollow. They didn't lift from the mat. I put them back in for a few more minutes. And then for a few more minutes. Finally, I gave up hope and took them out to cool, and then put the second tray in.

The second tray seemed to work a bit better, but it certainly wasn't a home run by any stretch of the imagination. Still, I only needed one good one to photograph, right?

I pulled the meringue cookies from the mat, trying not to break them, which proved more challenging than you might expect (considering the mat was silicone). And I whipped some blueberry buttercream to use as the filling, thinking it would pair nicely with the lemon flavoured meringue. And I piped and sandwiched my cookies, trying not to crack them or put a finger through them, before putting them in the fridge for 24 hours (which many say is the mandatory final step). There were more than a few casualties.

And when it was all done, I had one good one to photograph.

Okay, that's not quite true. I had more than one. But not many more. After all of that effort for so little output, there wouldn't be any sharing. (Sorry, peeps!)

I collected the cracked cookies and put them in tupperware for snacking (they still tasted great) and I rationed the remaining lemon macarons filled with blueberry cream cheese filling.

The following day, I did some research to see what might have gone wrong. As it turns out, silicone baking mats, though popular with their circular piping guides, are not recommended for macarons -- and they increase the baking time. I had overfilled them. I also found that I probably had underwhipped the egg whites (despite carefully following a recipe by Anna Olson). Finally, it's likely that I didn't fold my mixture enough.

Determined to master this, just a week ago, I tried making them again and was much more successful. I whipped to stiff peaks instead of soft, I folded the mixture until I could draw figure eights with the batter, and I adjusted the bake time (though I did still use the silicone baking mats). I used a lighter touch piping. And, I'm happy to say that, though it once again wasn't a home run, my yield was much higher the second time around.

I'm thinking third time's a charm...

Have you ever made macarons? How did your first attempt go?

Unbearably Delicious?

When I was home for Christmas, my mother pulled an old recipe book out of the cupboard and suggested I take it back to Cape Breton with me. Now that I had my own place and was amassing my own library of cook books, she reasoned, that's where it should be. I hadn't seen it in decades. Literally. It was The Best Cookie Book Ever! -- self-proclaimed, of course -- that she had bought me at a Scholastic book fair when I was nine years old. I'm guessing it was my first cook book ever.

As I flipped through it, I remembered how much I loved it. The illustrations of the bears and a little grey cat were appealing to me back then -- and the truth is, they still are. They are incredibly cute. As I flipped through the book, I saw my signature from back then. (Not quite as smooth or flowing as it is now.) It seems I enjoyed the puzzles and did them all. At the back of the book, there was a certificate of achievement. I had awarded it to myself and seemingly forged a friend's signature as the person who presented it to me. As the memories of the book came back, I quickly flipped to the only recipe from it that I actually remembered making -- Chocolate Bars. I don't recall how they turned out or if we liked them. I just know that I really wanted to make them. And my mother, as always, indulged me (after a little convincing, as I recall).

What I remember about making these Chocolate Bars was how confused we were by the measurement for the butter. A stick of butter. Sure, that seems silly now -- hundreds, if not thousands, of episodes of Martha Stewart, Anna Olson, Ina Garten, and Nigella Lawson later -- but back then we really didn't know that meant a half cup or a quarter pound. Butter didn't come in sticks and, actually, we didn't even have butter. Back then, margarine was all the rage. And, of course, those were the days when you couldn't just jump onto the internet and google the conversion. How times have changed. I don't remember how much we decided was the right amount of butter/margarine. And I don't remember if we liked the final result. I just remember the great butter debate. Funny how memory works, no?

Since Christmas, I've looked at the recipe book a few times and thought that I should make some of the recipes from it again. And so this week I decided it was the right time to visit the past.

Of course, thirty years later, I now realize how misleading the name of the Chocolate Bars recipe actually is. A kid would read that and expect a chocolate bar. Well, okay, most kids would. The ones who compete on Kid's Baking Championship probably are way more savvy. Anyhoo... The reality is, this is a brownie recipe, which is sort of strange because there is already a brownie recipe in the book. Whatever you call it, it's a chocolate square recipe that claims to be "unbearably delicious" -- so I decided to put it to the test.

Yes, indeed. I opened up the recipe book and followed the kid-oriented instructions (with helpful tips, like turn off the stove/oven as the last step). One of the things that immediately struck me as strange was the suggestion to melt the butter and chocolate on the stove top in a pot. Why wouldn't you just melt it in the microwave, I wondered. Much safer, no? More kid-friendly? Oh yeah. Because thirty years ago, microwaves weren't standard issue the way they are now. So, okay, I deviated from the recipe a little bit and melted my butter and chocolate in a bowl in the microwave. Otherwise, though, I followed along, step by step. And after baking them for 20 minutes, as directed, I pulled them out without testing whether they were done (because the recipe didn't suggest a toothpick test).

I sprinkled the chocolate chips on top, let them sit for five minutes as instructed, and then smoothed the chocolate over the top. Then, sadly, I had to set them aside for an hour or so to cool.

So, the verdict? Are they unbearably delicious?

To my surprise, they are really, really delicious brownies. They have a great dark chocolate flavour and they aren't overly sweet. And the nuts give them a great texture. Best of all, the bake time seems to be spot on. I'm impressed!

Did you have a recipe book as a kid? What do you remember making back in the day?

An Edible Geode

I often like to make something special for my friends when the occasion calls for it. Some of you, for example, may recall a giant peanut butter cup that I made for a birthday last year. It was pretty spectacular, if I do say so myself, but you can be the judge:

Always looking to outdo myself (my mother always says, "You do like to challenge yourself"), I started contemplating ways to make a geode dessert for the same friend this year because of her love of (obsession with?) geodes.

Originally, I was going to make an edible geode using a rock candy method over a modelling chocolate base, like this. Then I considered making a geode cake, drawing inspiration from this video. But once I started the Professional Chocolatier program, I knew what I had to do: an edible white chocolate geode Easter egg.

I had seen a tutorial online that provided a basic method to follow, so as I worked my way through the program, I began planning in my head how I would accomplish my goal. Conveniently, last Easter, I had purchased a set of egg molds. One of them was the perfect size for an impressive geode egg. About two weeks before Easter, I painted the mold with green luster dust and then poured tempered white chocolate into it. I then left it to set a few days. I decided to do a second coat of chocolate to be sure that it was sturdy enough to stand up to the application of candy. And then I left it to crystallize again for a few days. Happy with the thickness and sheen, I was ready to apply the candy.

It took me a few weeks to actually locate the right candy, a quest that consumed much of March. I started with blue raspberry Jolly Ranchers and crushed them a rolling pin. Then I went on the hunt for a lighter blue hard candy and a clear one. I was surprised by just how limited the selection of hard candy was. Maybe it's the time of year or maybe hard candy isn't as popular as it once was. Either way, I couldn't find a single hard candy at Bulk Barn that was any shade of blue (other than the Jolly Ranchers I already had). I resorted to buying two sticks of rock candy in a cotton candy flavour that was a pale blue colour. Then I searched the store for a clear hard candy. Again, the options were surprisingly limited. I chose peppermint. When I got home, I cut the rock candy from the stick with a chef's knife and then broke it apart. I once again attacked the remaining candies with my rolling pin, beating them into submission.

I spent a lot of time thinking about the best way to adhere the candy to the egg. I briefly considered melted chocolate, but figured that it either would take too long to set or wouldn't adequately hold the candy. I also worried about it affecting the temper of the already set egg. Likewise, I considered blue candy melts and then abandoned the idea. In the end, I rewatched the tutorial and decided that royal icing was indeed the way to go. I mixed up a small batch and tinted it sky blue with my cake colours.

I carefully painted the inside of the egg with a thick coat. I then placed my candy into the royal icing -- first the Jolly Ranchers in the centre, then a ring of rock candy, followed by a ring of peppermint. Once it started to set up, it became clear that thinning the royal icing and painting a coat over the top was the best way to keep the candy shards in place -- they melted together and became one candy mass.

Then it was time to add some sparkle. First I mixed gold luster dust with vodka and painted the edge of the egg. While it shimmered a bit, it really didn't read as gold. I decided to buy some bronze luster dust to try. Instead of mixing it with vodka to make a paint, I brushed vodka over the edge of the egg and then with a dry brush applied the dust to the damp edge. This method worked much better. I then added a little gold over top to tone down the bronze. Finally, I used pearl luster dust on a dry brush to enhance the candy with some shimmer. 

And then I weighed it. No, this wasn't really a necessary part of the process, but I was curious. It weighted just under a half pound.

After letting the egg cure for a few days, I packaged it for gifting in a cupcake box I picked up at Michaels. And I have to say, I'm thrilled with the results.

So what do you think? More epic than a giant peanut butter cup?

And more importantly, what's next?

When I Dip You Dip We Dip

One of the techniques that I've been struggling with in my professional chocolatier program is enrobing. Part of the struggle has come from the tempering process and learning to hold chocolate in temper without it becoming over-crystallized. Another part of the struggle has come from using the wrong dipping tools (since remedied). And another part has stemmed from coordination and dipping technique. Consequently, I've decided that I need to practice this to get better at it.

Recently for my birthday, one of my friends gave me a small silicone Easter egg mold. At first I thought I'd use it to mold some fruit gummies, but then I realized I could melt down my gianduja, pipe it into the mold, and then enrobe them. In the words of the Barefoot Contessa, How bad could that be?

I popped out my gianduja eggs once they were set. Then I used the direct method to temper a small amount of milk chocolate and enrobed the little eggs. I like the enrobing method advocated by Callebaut. You take your centre, pop it into the tempered chocolate face down. Then, with the dipping fork, you flip it over in the chocolate, and tap off the excess. I only had about 21 of them, so it was a good number to work with. Previously, my batches had produced 64 (or more) centres -- and I found that tiring. The smaller number was more manageable. Great for practice, but not so many as to result in frustration.

I have to say, I'm happy with the result. These are cute and delicious. Part of me does wish I had more -- I would package them up as gifts for Easter. But I think doing small batches more frequently will do more to develop technique over time.

I bet a peanut butter filling would be amazing too.

What's your favourite Easter egg flavour or filling?