Dried fruit truffles (a healthy, vegan, sugar free, slow carb snack that is much more delicious than it sounds!)

 

 

Girls are girls from the minute they enter this world, I don't care what they say about nature vs. nurture.

I never brought up my daughter as a girly girl and went as far as putting a ban on pink during my pregnancy and the first half year of her life. Admittedly, a phase that did not last very long, thanks to overeager relatives (she was and still is the only female in a pretty large group of cousins) and that unstoppable process that makes parents do a string of things they swore smugly they would never do before actually becoming one.

Nevertheless, my daughter has grown up wearing pants more than dresses and "sensible" colors so that certain clothing items can be passed down to her little brother when she grows out of them. When it comes to toys, we have never denied her Barbie dolls or princess accessories, but we try to keep a pretty gender neutral approach in general.
 

 

 

 

This has not mitigated the traits in her that are so often ascribed to the female population in the least. She is a real chatterbox, extremely curious, very observant (as in nothing goes unnoticed) and loves clothes, hair, make up and jewelry.  She has been known to make earrings out of stickers, paperclips, fruit and flowers and is always excited to receive the sparkly Disney merchandising I so abhor as presents. She is undeniably a girl. A jeans-clad, sneaker-wearing girl with a glittery soul.

If I wear an old sweater I haven't worn for a while I immediately get asked "Did you go shopping?". If she is in the kitchen doing her homework and I tell her brother off in the bedroom, you can bet your bottom dollar that her head will be sticking through the doorway, neck craning, to see what is happening. She can hear you say something from the other end of the apartment even if you think she is busy dancing and singing, and will come up and enquire about it with insistence. Discreet she is not.

She ooohs and aaaahs on the rare occasions I wear heels.

The other day, the minute I walked into the kitchen after getting ready, she looked up at the very thin stripe of eyeliner I had applied and exclaimed: "Mommy, that black line on your eyes is sooo pretty!". My son is still trying to find it.

Whisky Christmas log with chocolate chips, cranberries and marron glacés

The holidays are right around the corner and there are just no more free slots in your calendar for yet another social engagement: there's the office party, the elementary school fundraiser, the pre-K recital and party, the last minute Christmas drinks with old colleagues, the dinner with close friends, the cocktail with your pilates buddies and the afterdinner toast with those other friends you only see once a year in December. No to mention lunch with the girls and the charity bake sale you agreed to help out with.

As if Christmas in itself does not involve enough binging, we stuff our faces all the way through December and suffer a hang over or two in the process.

 

What is it about the holiday season that makes everyone act like they will never be seeing each other again? Most of us live in the same city, perhaps just blocks away from each other, and we will probably bump into each other at the supermarket in our yoga pants at least a few more times before the year is over. Ok, so this year may be an exception if the Mayas have any say, but it is just the exception that confirms the rule: life will pretty much be the same as the day before when you wake up on the 26th or next January 1st, so why all the craziness?

In Italy the holiday season is all about eating dry, mass produced pandoro and picking out the candied peel from panettone while balancing a glass of bad quality, often too sweet spumante with a smile stamped on your face. The good part is the homemade crema al mascarpone that at least one member of each family is usually famous for.

I also remember many a Christmas holiday in Sweden during which the initally greatly anticipated and delicious Julbord became the fodder of nightmares as the days passed. By the fifteenth Julsbord I ate in seven days I was dreaming of bowls herring and ris a la malta hunting me down in the snow.

I know that wherever you are, you are being tormented by something spicy or sweet, just in a different guise. Stale stollen? Sorry sorrel? Boring bunuelos? Terrible turron? I want to know more!
  

Here is something you can make to bring to a party or to wrap up as a gift. I guarantee, it is anything but bland, dull or plain. It is right up there with chewy dark gingerbread, spicy and warming mulled wine and the most wonderfully studded Christmas pudding you can conjure up in your mind.

I tweaked the original recipe (from this blog, which is full of great recipes and stories) using marrons glacées and dried cranberries because cherries are not a favorite (to say the least) in our home but I still thought red was essential for the Christmas feeling. You can mix in figs, dates, apricots or any kind of nut. It is a great way to use up odds and ends in your pantry, a more traditional version of a Monster cookie or an Everything bagel. The end result was delicious, truly addictive and it took me under two hours to make, from beginning to end (cooling and setting included because I used the freezer). The recipe makes six logs: I brought three to a dinner party and pretty much ended up eating the other three myself, when no one was looking.