Dear Teddy. It’s mama. Or mommy, or MA. You call for me in the mornings when you wake up to let me know you’re awake. Or you yell at me to come in to your room, and bleary eyed, I stumble out of bed. “Is it morning?” you ask. How did you get to be four years old? Just yesterday, you were the basketball bump in my tummy. The baby-to-be, forcing me to ingest whole ice cold watermelons and cut-up cantaloupes, and large cups filled to the brim with ice cubes, shimmering like a sculpture. Rolling around like an alien in my tummy, the strangest sensation. Now, here you are. Tall for your age, with soft lightly brown skin, cheeks of dough and eyelashes so thick and long they would make a drag queen jealous. You are growing your hair out like Joey Ramone’s. You don’t mind being called a girl at the park. You are fascinated by good and evil, good guys and bad guys. You say things like “mommy if a bad guy ever comes to take you I will PUNCH HIM and lock him up in jail!!”You really are a pretty little guy.
Every day you are learning so much, questioning the world around you, asking what words mean, with a growing independence. I miss you so much when I am working and we are apart, yet you often make me lose my cool with your wildness. You shred on your guitar and sing all day long. You seem to love pop punk music, which is questionable. You love make-believe play and you are obsessed with cars. You ask about death and dying a lot. I try my best to answer your super-goth questions without freaking both of us out. I don’t have all the answers – sometimes mommy just does not know.
You are my whole heart. You are a huge nutbar. You are hilarious and fun and sweet and thoughtful but you can also sometimes be an asshole. You love jokes. I am trying my best to raise you as a cool guy, one who thinks of others, who loves freely, who shares (haha) and has gratitude. Lately we have been singing “A Whole New World” from Aladdin together and at the end I always say “nice singing, Teddy!” and you say “nice singing, mom!”
You are the one who makes me truly happy, Teddy! My heart and life is full because of you. You are so well loved by so many people. I am so glad I am here to be with you. Love, Mom
I’m very excited to announce that today my Craftsy class, Fun and Easy Birthday Cakes: Playful Animals, went LIVE! YIKES! I love my little animal cakes so much (honestly, I’d hug them and sleep on them like a pillow if I could) and I’m pretty stoked to share my techniques for these modern and whimsical cakes. The class was created with the beginner cake decorator in mind – I’ll show you how to level, crumb coat and frost your cakes, then turn them into INSANELY CUTE LITTLE PARTY ANIMAL BUDDIES LIKE THESE GUYS BELOW!
Filming a class with Craftsy ranks right up there as the most nerve-wracking, hilarious and exciting learning experiences I’ve had so far in the cake world. I was in Denver, Colorado for one week – where the Craftsy offices and studios are located – and each night I just collapsed onto the hotel room bed with barely enough energy to dial room service and flip on a movie. I couldn’t sleep very well due to anxiety (VIDEO CAMERA! PERFORMING! FEAR OF FORGETTING MY LINES!) but by the time it was over and I got to reflect on my experience – it was pretty amazing. I felt exhausted, excited, exhilarated… and just proud of myself. Mid-week I had a pretty big meltdown – lack of sleep, stress, homesickness and anxiety collided with me realizing that one year ago, I was lying in bed, weak with a kidney infection and sick post-chemo, no hair, unrecognizable covered in horrible hives and unable to move due to debilitating arm and chest pain from my medication. It was the lowest point in my cancer treatment. And then almost exactly a year later here I was, feeling healthy and fit, working on a pretty incredible project that I had worked hard on preparing for. All I could think was TAKE THAT, CANCER.
Just me and allll my buddies! My favourite pic from the Craftsy shoot! I gotta say, the Craftsy team are a super great bunch – professional, kind, hard working, funny and creative. Thank you to my new friends Azara, Kristin, Jared, Miwha, Rob, Gabe, Molly, Danica, Tommy, Hannah and all the other wonderful people I met! Click here for a 50% off link for my class Fun and Easy Birthday Cakes: Playful Animals (a special link which provides me with a lil extra cashish if you go ahead and buy the class) – 6 lessons and 5 different animal cake designs! I hope you’ll love it! xo Lyndsay
I can’t remember where my fear of LARGE MARINE MAMMALS originated from but certainly reading an excerpt from the book JAWS found on a family friend’s bookshelf as a young child did not help. The cover of the book alone was enough to terrify – a lone woman swimming at the surface in grey green water, a gargantuan great white shark wildly blasting up through the water, teeth gleaming, ready to rip through flesh – ugh. I didn’t even see the movie until I was an adult, but throughout childhood a fear of sharks in swimming pools, pristine lakes, sandy beach shores, even a bathtub. From this fear, another fear emerged – that of an orca whale silently, massively, gliding like a silent predator underneath a boat. A weirdly specific fear.
We just came back from Cabo San Lucas, Mexico – a wonderful trip to celebrate my mother-in-law’s birthday. I’d only ever been to Cabo once before, as a 14 year old – my memories of this consisted of being bewildered by all the drunken, screaming adults in Corona bikinis, the overt stench of loose morals and the searing dry heat and going on my first and only horseback ride in jean shorts – my butt still remembers the continually galloping bouncy ass-pain. This time around we stayed at Riu Palace, a palatial all-inclusive resort that was essentially a dry-docked cruiseship – a very large and well kept resort right next to a beautiful beach, with two huge pools, a swim-up bar and an entertainment crew that worked from dawn til dawn.
In Cabo, tourism rules – and they have a very well oiled machine that trots along, pulling up shuttles full of mostly white people with brutal sun burns to enjoy the many splendours of Cabo in the form of excursions – swimming with whale sharks, sunset sailboat cruising, glass bottomed boats, and swimming with dolphins. There was no way in hell I was going to swim with a whale shark, as I would’ve had a panic attack, shit myself then drowned, most likely. I did however, meet a dolphin. My new thing post-breast-cancer is to rise to new challenges. Even if that challenge is getting eaten alive by a captive, mentally insane dolphin. Her name was Belle. She was smiling, although I think her face just looks like that. I felt kind of terrible about supporting her captivity by paying to meet her. We were led out into the hot sun to a docked area, where each dolphin had their own giant ocean water pen. Into the water we went – led like life-jacketed prisoners about to be murdered by dolphins, down a set of stairs onto a slippery with sea-slime ledge, which we shimmied along, stomach-deep in water. We were told to keep our backs against the wall. A man in a wetsuit and wraparound sunglasses holding a plastic cooler tightly to his chest was the dolphin trainer, and with each command performed, Belle the dolphin would be rewarded by an icy fish down the gullet.
Now it was time to touch the dolphin. We were told to place our hands flat against the surface of the water and Belle would glide along, allowing us to touch her belly, her back and fin. Her skin felt like a wet rubber boot – very durable, like I could wear dolphin skin boots and splash around in rain puddles. Then, we were given the option of touching her tongue. Her mouth gaped wide open, the trainer held his hands against her shining teeth – it was a panting pink muscle and felt like… a rubber boot. Sidenote: I just googled “do people eat dolphins.” I wasn’t sure. But yes, people eat dolphins. Dolphins vs pigs – both incredibly smart, incredibly cute – dolphin bacon?
Finally, it was time to shake the dolphin’s fin and get a kiss from the dolphin, or kiss the dolphin on its mouth. Belle came gliding up to me. I put my hand out and she stood balancing out of the water (her core must be INSANE) while I lightly touched her fin. Two friends holding hands for a moment in time. Then, with a hand gesture by me, Belle popped out of the water, facing me, ready for a kiss on the mouth. I stared at her, frozen in fear – for a split second imagining her mauling my face with her Joker-like smile. She didn’t maul my face. I didn’t kiss her on the mouth. She kissed my cheek and she was thrown a fish. Another side note: anchovies were aplenty at the all-inclusive resort buffets! I had deconstructed Caesar salad with almost every meal, romaine lettuce, layers of salty oily anchovy, parmesan, crunchy square croutons and dressing with a squeeze of lime. Admittedly, I wondered what Belle’s whole fish snacks tasted like. Cold cold sashimi to fill her blubbery rubber belly.
We truly had a marvellous time in Mexico! And I touched a dolphin and I liked it. Happy birthday Cool Gamma T! Thank you for the fantastic trip! xo Lyndsay
Last week my sisters, mom and I went on a GALS ONLY trip to SAN FRANCISCO to celebrate my mom’s birthday! Our family has such a fondness for the city – we grew up visiting there at least once a year, and we had a shared family apartment close to Chinatown. We power-ate and power-walked our way through the city, meeting up with friends along the way. Man it felt great to be alive. Breezy warm San Francisco sun, a trip loaded with such cute shops and snacks. (pictured above - Miette‘s old fashioned cupcake! I finally got to sink my teeth into one of these cartoon beauties! Soft tender chocolate cake with a marshmallow-y blobette of icing and little red candy peanut!)
Man we went wild for the Ferry Building. So much goodness crammed into that beautiful space. SO much good food. At least one or all of us ate at Out The Door pretty much every day. I had the roast pork bahn mi which I scarfed down like a porky pig eating its own brethren. The salad rolls and house made peanut sauce… oh I want it again now! ^__^ Plus, this triple threat of super cute CONES from Humphry Slocombe! Blue bottle coffee, matcha with black and white cookies and “secret breakfast” – bourbon and cornflakes! All so good.
Our awesome friend Andrea drove us all around SF so we could stuff our faces! I honestly didn’t think I could ingest another thing but then this salted caramel kid’s cone from Bi-Rite Creamery appeared out of nowhere (ie, I ordered it like the ice cream pig I am) and it was so good. Such a deep, almost burnt caramel flavour!
Why isn’t this bakeshop called Mister Cruff n Stuff? NAME CHANGE ALERT! Mr.Holmes Bakeshop‘s cruffins were wild and crazy and most importantly DELICIOUS. My excellent food-crazy sis Gyoza Girl Eats dragged my mom here and lined up for these babies at 7:45am – she brought home a box crammed with goodies! Eeks. So good. Honestly there’s something so smurfy cute about the above cruffin – white chocolate rapsberry, filled to the muffiny brim with raspberry cream and topped with that jaunty little marshmallow hat.
We pretty much sprinted into B Patisserie on our last morning in San Francisco while Andrea waited in the car – kouign amann to go, and this heavenly pistachio eclair!
Y’all know how much I love Hawaii. We had such a fun meal at Liho Liho Yacht Club – pictured, tuna poke on nori cracker and beef tongue in poppyseed steam bun! Service was excellent (so friendly) and ambience was chill and energetic! (um, we lined up at 430pm to get in – so maybe that’s the early bird diner experience!)
This Baked Hawaii was the cutest little dessert ever – caramelized pineapple ice cream with torched meringue, reminded me of my mom’s “pineapple dessert” from the 1980s in the best way possible.
We had the loveliest lunch at Petit Crenn! A minimalist room but brimming with warmth and style – I loved the mismatched silverware and the navy and white striped aprons of the kitchen staff. I’ve been crushing on Dominique Crenn ever since I heard her interviewed on Radio Cherry Bombe – so talented, articulate, calm, funny, meditative – and she loves kids – CUTE! She is also in the current issue of Cherry Bombe!
A perfectly tender omelette, briny from fish stock, and smoked trout tartine – we also had the mushroom tartine, the mussels, little gem salad and the softest pillows of gnocchi. Serious compliments to the kitchen.
FOOD NERD ALERT! Chef Edward Lee was sitting at the counter, enjoying a meal by himself until SOME PUMPKIN FACED EXCITED CHINESE LADY WITH SHORT HAIR interrupted him … Hehe. No, he was very friendly and maybe surprised to be recognized… he is very unassuming and nice.
Blog pal meet-up! Finally got to meet cool online buddies Michelle and Nanette in real life, as well as reconnect with the wonderful Jenn who was visiting SF as well! We hit up Craftsman and Wolves. I am even more into this place now that I know they are into metal.
My favourite was this whipped coffee, yuzu and crunchy coconut crust PARTY PUFF from Craftsman and Wolves! I honestly can’t resist a puffy looking dessert.
My wonderful mom, in the lobby of the Palace Hotel, a truly palatial experience indeed! Thank you LS for this wonderful trip!
Of course I missed my little munchkin Chinese Gloworm! Here he is all dressed up for Easter. I know, I know. Dressed up for Teddy is a collared shirt and clean Vans. Dude’s a t-shirt guy!!
I brought back home these cutie Easter cookies from Batter Bakery for RT and Teddy! Hours later when he was almost asleep in bed for the night, Teddy called for me in tears, told me that he was sad that he had eaten his bunny cookie… I asked if it was yummy and between tears he said “yes”… I explained it’s better to eat it when it’s fresh, and that it was a special treat to enjoy, but I could understand that he was sad that it was gone… Hehe. PARENTHOOD!
Home with my sweet guys, and feeling happy, with energy, and excited for fun projects, sunny picnics and good things in which the future holds. Spring weather, sunshine and flowery trees can do that to a person… Hope you are well, too, my friends! xo Lyndsay
My journey of macaron making started at pretty much the EXACT same time as my breast cancer journey. So weird. I only just realized this. Macarons kept me from going down a horrible, mental insanity-inducing mind spiral from hell – it was the day after I was told I had breast cancer. I was baking for my mom’s 70th birthday high tea party. I decided to try my DARNDEST to make macarons, and succeed. It took me four attempts, adjusting things each time, focusing, not giving up, and finally I made some pretty macs.
Macarons, in my kitchen, are the most finicky bastards in town. I’ve followed my own advice since first having macaron success and I’ve bombed horribly. I’ve found that MACARONS WANT YOU TO BE SCARED OF THEM and then they will rise up in jubilance with their ruffly goddamn feet and go “fine, here you go. You worked hard, you were terrified. Here are my ruffly feet.”
Can I tell you about this magical picture above where Teddy and I are looking EXTREMELY HAPPY? Hehe. My sweet pal Miranda of the amazing Whistle + Flute asked me if I wouldn’t mind being interviewed for her blog – super exciting! Yes! She sent me a macaron cutie tee for Teddy and a Je T’aime tee for myself. The plan was to take a cute pic of Teddy and I to accompany the interview. Yes, I could do this! So on a sunny weekend day in February, I told Teddy we were going to get ICE CREAM at the giant pink ice cream factory here in Vancouver. (PS is there an unsaid rule for graffiti taggers that they don’t tag pink walls? There are two sets of pink walls in our neighbourhood and neither are tagged, although everywhere else is.) We jumped into the car and headed down to the ice cream factory – the sun was out – but it was DARN COLD being February … and it didn’t occur to me that Teddy might huff puff about not having a jacket on! Even the LURE AND BRIBE OF A GUMMY BEAR VANILLA ICE CREAM CONE could not put a smile on his little face … so I was getting irritated/grumpy and Teddy wouldn’t smile and… SNAP!! My husband took our pics quickly and I hoped for the best, hehe! In the end we got one for the Whistle + Flute interview … and the macaron tee is one of Teddy’s faves.
Best post title EVER, amiright? Donuts macarons and drugs. (These pretty and perfect macarons are from Soirette.) No, I’m not much of a drug user of that kind – well unless you count the “medical marijuana hazelnut chocolate coin” I took a bite out of during a particularly awful and nauseous post-chemotheraphy day. To say that I was blazing through the milky way was an understatement, and it took the nausea away, too. I have a doctor friend who was also going through breast cancer treatment, a friend I made at the cancer agency, and even she gave me a set of sticky weed lollipops. We live in Vancouver, after all.
Anyway, the drugs I am talking about at the moment are the new drugs I started taking about a week ago, Tamoxifen. The name itself evokes a Mongolian-mist style creepy vapour fog that seeps into your pores and surrounds you, engulfing you in its side effects. The first night I had to take it, I just stared at the chalky looking round white pill for a good few minutes, glass of water on hand. I finally just threw it back into my throat and swallowed it with a glug of water. “Here’s to hot flashes, dry vagina and mood swings from hell!” I thought to myself.
That night I had a restless sleep fuelled by chills, sudden blasts of hot sweatiness and general discomfort – I woke up feeling like my whole body had been beaten with a pain stick, and I had an awful headache. I was feeling very depressed about this, worried about the amount of time my body might take to adjust to the medication. Or would this be my new normal?? Still, I forced myself to go to the gym, laced up my hot pink sneakers, pulled my hoodie up over my head, Chinese Rocky with cancer style, and trodded out in the rain to the gym. I cried a little at the gym, arms pumping the elliptical trainer to the beat of Chaka Khan and Jay-Z. And of course I laughed at myself, which I often do.
Now, about a week later, I’m feeling more adjusted, although my mood and emotions are like a roller coaster from hell. I really hate that a drug can mess with a person like this but I read another cancer patient’s quote online today and it said “quality of life vs life.” I’ll do my best to power through all the weirdness as usual. Half of the time I’m feeling strong and like I’ve “beaten” this. The other half of the time I’m imagining the doctor’s appointment where I’m told the cancer has come back and spread throughout my body.
But, I will continue to focus on the good things, and all that I have in my life. Especially my son Teddy, who held up a french fry the other day and said “Mom, it looks like a penis!” We speak freely of genitals at our house, giving organs their proper names – although “penis” has now made its way into Teddy’s knock knock non-sensical joke repertoire, much to the dismay of my mother, and yes, I explain to Teddy that it’s not a nice-guy-thing to really talk about too much in public, nor is it very polite – all while smirking through his penile-focused jokes. Ah, the fine balance of parenthood. Life goes on. xo Lyndsay
Hands up if you dislike the word “blogger.” When you say you’re a blogger as your profession, there’s inside-eye-rolls and thoughts of “that’s not a real job.” Even I can’t take it seriously in my mind and I’ve been blogging since 2008. Of course I used to have a cake business attached to it, but now it’s just me, my camera and my computer, typing away til my eyes are bleary. It’s certainly not a 9-5 job – and I suppose it falls in line with the long list of random jobs I’ve had in my life, starting from my first job making DECORATIVE FRUIT BASKETS in the moldy freezing-cold basement of a long-gone family grocery store in Vancouver. I’d “shop” for the fruit first, rolling a grocery cart through the fresh produce aisles, piling the cart high with goods. Then, the fruit gets piled in a Jenga-like fashion to create a mound, all nestled in made-in-China brightly coloured weaved baskets, wrapped in plastic wrap and topped with a sticker-peel, cheap shiny bow. At least as a fruit-basket-maker you could count on a bi-weekly paycheque – not so much with blogging!
However… I got this nice email recently: “Your cake blog has been one of my absolute favorites since I found it a few years back; you are such an inspiration to me aesthetically as well as with how you live your life and how super real you are in a sea of plastic blogs.” Sometimes you just sit in your dark little room editing your photos in your pyjamas with a side plate of snacks and a milky hot tea and you really have no idea if people are reading, or caring whatsoever at what you’re putting out there. I mean, yes there’s google analytics. But without those emails, without comments from readers – it could all just be flash-in-the-pan “I found you on Pinterest and I’m gonna rip on your cake idea and I have no idea who you are and I don’t carrrreeeeee” visits. So when you get a genuine response from what you put out in the world, it truly means a lot.
You can imagine my stokage level when Kerry of Cherry Bombe sent me an email in the fall asking me if she could interview me for their upcoming issue. Stokage level: HIGH. (I’ve been a fan of Cherry Bombe magazine since before I even read an issue – just the CONCEPT of the mag – it brings together all of my favourite things: food, beautiful photography and design, and inspiring women.) Back in October when I posted my Breast Cancer Cakes, I really didn’t have any idea how people might respond. To me, it combined the heartache of last year’s cancer diagnosis and treatment with a blast of cakey inspiration; my blog had become about cancer and cakes, so why not literally create a cancer and cakes project? The post ended up reaching a lot of people, a lot of women. Cancer patients, friends, family, fans. Even my own oncologist! And it opened a door to an interview with Cherry Bombe!
Chinese Fugazi Mom! Cool as a pickle!
Reality Bites – there could be no better article title. Because I saw this movie many many times in my late teens (and no, sadly it doesn’t hold up – dialogue, OUCH!) and I know the soundtrack by heart and maybe even christened my place the Maxi Pad. Plus, I call my current growing-in-post-chemo-pixie-cut-by-accident the “Chinese Winona Ryder.” The universe is pulling some magic.
The Cherry Bombe vibe is one that feels based in community, building women up, being inspired by fellow women. It’s mature, innately feminist – it feels non-milennial – no race to the top, no image-card-based website that endlessly updates in a fervour of faster, now, immediate, click-bait, drowned in hashtags – Cherry Bombe doesn’t even share content on their website – readers must wait patiently for the next issue to come out, to savour those pretty, nicely-weighted pages, to pore over the issue like I would pore over the latest Sassy magazine as a teen.
And now, I’m going to leave you with this: The Runaways performing Cherry Bomb live in Japan. Because this is the song that runs through my head every time I see the magazine. I’m seriously thrilled to be a part of the Cherry Bombe community. xo Lyndsay The Blogger
One year ago I was standing in the kitchen, probably dinking around on my Instagram, maybe power-snacking on some leftover Christmas chocolate, when I got the phone call from my family doctor.
The same wonderful doctor who delivered Teddy – I can still hear her counting down from 10 when it was time to push the head out during labour – like a seasoned coach – confident, strong, guiding. Those countdowns from 10 – I could do that! I could push for ten seconds! Then all of a sudden, a release – my son’s head came through in a rush of fluids, adrenaline pouring through my system, time stood still and all of the pain and contractions screeched to a halt. My baby was plonked onto my chest, in a sea of jubilation. “His name is Teddy!” I said.
On the phone this time, her voice was quiet, hushed, but firm. “Lyndsay, we got your biopsy results back.” She couldn’t quite say it. “It’s C.”
Cancer. She went on to say she had already made various appointments for me to get everything rolling, and fast. An appointment with a surgeon in a few days and other scans and tests were organized and ordered. My sisters and I were deep into planning mode for my mom’s 70th birthday. I remember hosting 60+ women at my house for high tea, everyone so happy and celebratory, and me trying to stay afloat with this bizarre, horrible new information. Just gotta get through. A few times I had to hide in the bathroom and cry.
And finally in December: a FUCKING TRIP TO MAUI! YES. We celebrated. We celebrated being alive, hard. In the most mellow way possible. Meaning, we lazed around in the tropical golden sun and soaked it up. Warm waves, so many turtle sightings it was like visiting old friends, delicious food and splashing in the pool.
Hair today, hair tomorrow! The little hairdo that could. I feel like the Chinese 1990s Winona Ryder and I am so so so happy to have a hairdo. “WILL BRAKE FOR GIANT BOUGAINVILLEA BUSH”
Ice cold calorie-laden sugar-loaded pass-o-guava-nectar but I don’t caaaaaaare (GLUG GLUG GLUG)
Hazy cloudy pool day.
Party dog on the beach! Nap? Fuggedabout it. Run run run instead.
We ate from this Kinaole Grill Food Truck four times. Garlic shrimp, mahi mahi, guava pulled pork, coconut shrimp all on beds of soft seafood fragrant rice, with wild greens topped with feta and macadamia nuts. It’s parked one block from the beach, so we’d go at 5pm and eat it on a beach blanket for Maui sunset.
Beach exploring in Wailea.
More photos in front of giant bush!
Crazy 3 year old splash.
Maui style – U Can’t Touch This
My not so little baby.
Me feeling the deep Maui vibes. (with hair! Almost 6 months of hair growth post-chemo.)
Time will pass. It keeps rolling. Slippin’ into the future, and there’s nothing we can do. Through good times, and bad. Sickness and health! For as long as we all shall live. I started the year on fear. I ended it with a snowy hug, at our mountain cabin, crunching through forest in the dark on snowshoes with my husband, peace and quiet abound, overwhelmed with all that has transpired this past year but feeling happy, content, strong, full of love. Ready for good things. Here’s hoping 2016 is a sweet one.