This morning, I made two Danish Braids, because we don’t have enough carbs in the house. What with the cake, the biscuits, the scones. If not for Simply Orange, we’d have scurvy.

There are three things you should know if you decide to make this Danish Braid:

1. The entire process takes at least eight hours. The dough rests in the fridge for five. So, you’ll need to set aside an afternoon or evening to prep the dough. The process isn’t all that intense, but you’ll be rolling and folding the dough four times, with 30-minute breaks in between. Plenty of time to catch up on the laundry, take a multivitamin, or watch way too much Law and Order. Guess which one I did.

3. The braiding is no big deal. A Danish braid is a laminated dough. Instead of combining the butter and a flour mixture, you keep them separate and fold the butter between the layers of dough. Your first one or two turns of the dough might look pretty ragged; just keep going. With every turn, the dough will get smoother. And, if you can lace your shoes, you can braid this dough.

Once you’re done, you’ll have two rich, buttery braids that look impressive, taste delicious, and contain 100 percent of your daily allowance of vitamins and minerals. And by “vitamins and minerals,” I mean butter. Enjoy!

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Summer officially arrives in the U.S. tonight at 11:59 p.m.

This is the year we make friends.

Life’s too short to dread the humidity, chlorine, and mosquitoes big enough to rape a chicken. And the sweating. The sweating! No, I’m not going to focus on that.

Last January, Gourmet printed “What Is Southern?,” a previously unpublished essay by the late Edna Lewis, one of the South’s most celebrated chefs. Here’s the part that caught my attention:

“Southern is a hot summer day that brings on a violent thunderstorm, cooling the air and bringing up smells of the earth that tempt us to eat the soil. Southern is Tennessee Williams and Streetcar … Southern is a pitcher of lemonade, filled with slices of lemon and a big piece of ice from the icehouse, and served with buttermilk cookies.”

Now, there’s a vision of summertime in the South I can get behind. Read More…

Last year, I was at a total loss for what to give Jeff for his birthday. My brother-in-law, Taylor, had just scored a new-in-the-box PlayStation 3 from a police auction, and he gave it to me to give to Jeff. G-a-v-e. I paid him back the money he’d spent, but he never asked for it.

How much did Jeff like the gift? When I gave him the PlayStation, we were dating. Now, we’re married.

So, when my sister asked me to make a birthday cake for Taylor–a neapolitan cake topped with a huge catfish–I was all about it. Never mind that I’d never actually seen a catfish. Not without hushpuppies and tartar sauce.

Thank God for Google Image Search.

I started with three 9-inch cakes–one vanilla, one chocolate, and one strawberry–split and filled with vanilla buttercream, chocolate buttercream, and vanilla buttercream swirled with fresh strawberries. Then I crumb-coated the cake with vanilla buttercream and covered it in blue fondant.

While I baked the cakes and made buttercream, Jeff molded the catfish out of Rice Krispies treats. We let the “body” dry overnight, and then I wrapped it in chocolate fondant and sculpted the whiskers, gills, and fins the next day.

I held the cake on my lap while Jeff drove to Jenn and Taylor’s house. Rush hour traffic. Forty-five minutes. On the interstate.

I’ve never been so relieved to have something out of my car.

But the looks on their faces were worth it. Taylor was surprised. Jenn was beaming. My nephew, Logan, wanted the fish head, and his younger brother, Jackson, was pulling off the fondant and eating it by itself.

So, neapolitan? Check. Catfish? Check. A 200 proof sugar rush for the 3-year-old? Check.

My work there was done.

Happy birthday, Taylor!

We took these French Chocolate Brownies to a “Lost” season finale party Thursday night, and it’s a good thing the room was dark, so no one noticed exactly how many I wolfed down.

I needed something to supplement our dinner, which was a menu of Things That Are Difficult If Not Impossible For Me To Eat In Public. We’re talking corn-on-the-cob, which makes me obsess about my teeth. I think there’s something stuck between them. Can he see it? Maybe if I drink some water. Nope. Where’s a mirror? Maybe I can just keep my mouth shut all night. Is that a kernel?

Remember that scene in “Pretty Woman” where Julia Roberts tries to shuck an oyster and winds up hurling it across the restaurant? That’s me. That’s why I like to order things that stay put, like taters.

Anyway, I made a meal of these brownies. The crackly top adds a little texture to an otherwise completely moist, melt-in-your-mouth, fudgy brownie. Perfect for picnics, parties, and corn malfunctions.

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