Guest Post from Mercedes M. Yardley: Find Your Literary Voice

Imagine this. You are nine or ten or eleven years old. In your “tweens” as the hip kids call it. Or is that “cool”? You have moved to a foreign country “overseas” because your father was stationed there and you are experiencing non-American food for the first time. Belgium. A little country partially notable by the fact that NATO exists within it. (And so much more…)

First, it is all hotel food because there are no quarters available for you and your military family in SHAPE, Belgium (Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe). And the food is good. I mean, really good. We’re talking fresh fruit, chocolate croissants, and Belgian waffles. My mom complained that she gained a pound for every day we were required to stay in that hotel. I don’t remember how long. It was too long for nine-year-old me. I just wanted a home and my things around me.

Then we were there. Living in a 300-year-old manor house in Brugelette, Belgium in 1979 because “the franc was so good.” The backyard was bigger than any school playground I’d ever played in before. The house had history. Real history. This is where “Dear Penpal, Belgium 1980” was born. “Dear Penpal, Belgium 1980” is a unique, middle grade-appropriate ghost story told through 24 physical letters that I am kickstarting from March 26th to April 26th.

In the letters a recipient will receive, I’ve included description of fritz. Real fritz (I’m convinced that Belgium is the only place to get this near-mythical food) and fritz stands with their paper cone conveyances for food beyond fritz. The only thing I really remember were the fried meatballs my father loved so much with a condiment concoction we called “goopy.” We recreated it at home with a mixture of ketchup and mayo. Dad insisted on having goopy with his fries for the rest of his life. 

I also remember going to 3-hour long meals at a tiny Belgian restaurant…whose name I never knew…that had maybe five tables, where I ate all manner of things. In this place, we were known as “the polite American family” and they would bump other reservations for us if Dad called. It was within this restaurant that I learned to be fearless about “foreign” cuisine. I would willingly taste everything at least once. 

I had two favorites: Frog legs (that really did taste like gamy chicken) in the most delicious sauce and white asparagus. The frog legs were a treat. A birthday meal. The same with the white asparagus that I thought was a special type of asparagus. It took me into my adulthood before I looked up how white asparagus was made. (I’m not going to tell you. You need to look it up yourself.) But, since then I have always loved asparagus and I consider any restaurant to serve white asparagus high class indeed. 

My time in Belgium gave me a boon. That boon is the ability to say “yes” to whatever local cuisine is offered to me. As a Guest of Honor at GothCon in Gothenburg, Sweden, I was offered smoked puffin as an appetizer at a restaurant that was located at the corner of Baldur’s Gate and Odin’s Way. I accepted. It was fine. Not really to my taste, but I’m glad I did taste it. As a Guest of Honor at Tracon in Tampere, Finland at a Viking feast, the interesting food I was offered included duck heart (so tasty) and tar ice cream (a campfire in ice cream form). Both of which were marvels to taste. My hosts were so pleased that I was willing to try the food from their country. American GoHs have a reputation of being shy around “exotic” food.

Living in Belgium during my formative years gave me a willingness, and a fearlessness, to try foods outside my comfort zone, and I have been richer for that experience. My rule is: I am willing to try anything once. Twice if I am in a bad mood the first time. It’s a rule I encourage others to adopt. Otherwise, you won’t know what you are missing. 

I hope you check out my new passion project: “Dear Penpal, Belgium 1980”? Won’t you be my penpal?

—

Jennifer Brozek is an award winning author, editor, and tie-in writer. A Secret Guide to Fighting Elder Gods, Never Let Me Sleep, and The Last Days of Salton Academy were all finalists for the Bram Stoker Award. She won the Scribe Award for best tie-in Young Adult novel, The Nellus Academy Incident, and won an Australian Shadows Award for best edited publication. Visit Jennifer’s worlds at jenniferbrozek.com, or follow her social media accounts on LinkTree.

If you’re an author or other fantasy and science fiction creative, and want to do a guest blog post, please check out the guest blog post guidelines. Or if you’re looking for community from other F&SF writers, sign up for the Rambo Academy for Wayward Writers Critclub!

Note from Cat: I’m so pleased to see Be The Sea out in print. I read an early version and it’s a lovely book. Please pick it up or request it through your local library!

A Yule log cake features prominently in my new novel, Be the Sea. While preparing it, four characters share bits of their history involving kitchens and cooking.

Kai, an outgoing enby poly pansexual from Hawai’i says, “Where I grew up, I loved everyone’s kitchen except mine.”

Aljon, a quiet ace sailor turned ship’s cook from the Philippines responds, “I felt safe in our kitchen and extended that to others.”

They’re both vegan, and Matt, who loves to feed people and is simultaneously making his second and third cakes for Yule, is Pagan. So the cake they make together is vegan, filled with pistachio cream spiraled inside chocolate cake. It’s frosted with whipped chocolate, applied in thick swoops with a knife, then textured using the tines of a fork to resemble bark. Powdered sugar is dusted on top as if there’s been a light winter snow; after all, this is a Yule log cake.

In truth, my household makes the same cake fashioned as…a groundhog.

Why? What’s the truth behind my fictional cake?

First, like my story’s point of view character, Wend, I love chocolate but grew up with a single mom who had little interest in or time for cooking, let alone baking. Second, and completely unrelated to my novel, my mom had a peculiar obsession with Groundhog Day (the holiday, not the movie). As she told it, this arose from a chance encounter with a newspaper reporter in San Francisco in the ‘60s who was asking passersby on the street if they knew what day it was. Evidently, the moment in my mom’s life when she felt most seen and affirmed was when she answered correctly that it was February 2nd, Groundhog Day.

I will never know if my mom would have identified as enby or ace (although I have my suspicions) because she passed away in the early ‘90s. What I know is that she made exactly one kind of cake. I don’t make it the same way she did, but once a year, for Groundhog Day, my chosen family chooses from several options for chocolate roll cakes. The tines of a fork pluck at the frosting until it looks like fur. A diagonal slice through the center makes one cake into two, each with a sloped face that can be decorated with nuts for ears and jellybeans for eyes.

In different times and different kitchens, each of us may share our own truths. We will see the same cake in new and different ways. And sometimes, in the eyes of a reporter or a groundhog, we will feel seen.

Choose your own—traditional, vegan, gluten-free, or nut-free—log or critter cake:

1) Cake

Preheat oven to 350 F. Line a 17×20” jelly roll pan with greased parchment (flour top if not gluten-free).

Baking for a traditional or gluten-free party? Jump to 1a.

Let’s make it vegan! Jump to 1b.

1a) Melt 4 oz melted bittersweet chocolate and allow it to cool a bit. In a mixing bowl, beat ¼ cup sugar and 6 egg yolks together for 5 minutes. Beat in chocolate, scrape down sides, blend until consistent.

In a separate mixing bowl, beat 6 egg whites until bubbly, add ¾ tsp cream of tartar, and beat until soft peaks form. Add 2 Tbsp sugar and beat until stiff peaks form. Fold into chocolate mixture a quarter at a time. Pour into prepared pan and bake 15 minutes (or until not shiny and center springs back when touched). Sprinkle with 1 Tbsp unsweetened cocoa and cover with damp towel while it cools. Jump to 2.

1b) Blend in a food processor until finely ground: 4 oz flour, 4 oz sugar, 4 oz unsweetened chocolate, and 2 oz blanched hazelnuts. Place in a sealed container in the freezer for at least an hour.

Mix until stiff peaks form: 12 oz water, 8 oz sugar, ¼ oz Versawhip (modified soy protein), and ¼ tsp xanthan gum. Refrigerate for at least an hour. Rewhip and quickly fold in chocolate mixture from freezer. Pour into a prepared pan and bake for 20 minutes (or until center springs back when touched). Sprinkle with 1 Tbsp unsweetened cocoa and cover with damp towel while it cools. Jump to 2.

2) Filling

Pull out yet another mixing bowl.

Stay nut-free with a traditional whipped cream filling! Jump to 2a.

Choose your favorite nuts (pistachio, walnut, cashew…) and stay vegan. Jump to 2b.

2a) Whip until soft peaks form: 1½ cup extra heavy whipping cream, 1½ Tbsp sugar, and ½ tsp vanilla (may use gelatin, agar agar, or Cobasan to stabilize if desired). Jump to 3.

2b) Blend 4 cups nuts, ½ cup maple syrup, seeds from 1 vanilla bean, and ½ cup water in a food processor until fluffy. Chill. (If using hard nuts like pistachios or cashews, it helps to soak them for 4 hours ahead of time with the vanilla bean slit open in the same water.) Jump to 3.

3) Frosting

Craving a classic creamy chocolate? Jump to 3a.

For intense vegan chocolate frosting that requires almost nothing beyond chocolate and finesse: Jump to 3b.

3a) Run 12 oz of your favorite bittersweet chocolate in a food processor until very fine. Keep that running as you pour 1½ cups of nearly boiling heavy whipping cream in a steady stream. (Adding ¼ cup more cream will make it fudgier. Adding ¼ cup of room temperature butter at the end will make it fluffier.) Cool completely once smooth. Jump to 4.

3b) Whip 9 oz of very hot water into 12 oz of melted bittersweet chocolate. Place in ice bath and whip until spreadable. (May be best to prepare this option after you roll the cake and spread immediately.) Jump to 4.

4) Bakers Assemble!

Spread the filling evenly onto the cake. Use the parchment to lift one long edge and roll, pulling back the parchment as you go. Refrigerate for one hour before slicing center diagonally (if desired for face or other decoration).

Spread with frosting, texture with a fork, and add candy or nut features to create the final—jump off the page to your own creativity!

---

Author bio:

Clara Ward lives in Silicon Valley on the border between reality and speculative fiction. Their latest novel, Be the Sea, features a near-future ocean voyage, chosen family, and sea creature perspectives, while delving into our oceans, our selves, and how all futures intertwine. Their short fiction has appeared in Strange Horizons, Decoded Pride, Small Wonders, and as a postcard from Thinking Ink Press. When not using words to teach or tell stories, Clara uses wood, fiber, and glass to make practical or completely impractical objects. More of their words along with crafted creations can be found at https://clarawardauthor.wordpress.com and their short stories can be found at https://clarawardauthor.wordpress.com/short-stories/