Chicken and Egg - Janice Cole [69]
NOTE
The sauce can be made up to 3 days ahead and stored, covered, in the refrigerator. To serve, heat over low heat or in the microwave until warm.
SERVES 16
CAKE
3 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 ½ teaspoons ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground allspice
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
2 ¾ cups granulated sugar
1 cup canola oil
4 eggs
One 15-ounce can solid-pack pumpkin
SAUCE
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup packed dark brown sugar
1 cup heavy (whipping) cream
2 tablespoons light corn syrup
¼ teaspoon coarse sea salt
Powdered sugar for sprinkling
CHAPTER SEVEN
End of Autumn
How do farmers take vacations? Our trip to South America, to visit our son who was studying in Chile, had been in the planning stages for a long time. Everything was finally taken care of, except for what we were going to do with the chickens. It’s not like I could take them to the local chicken kennel. Many friends and neighbors who had come to see the newly arrived chicks offered their help. “Just let us know,” they’d volunteer as they were walking out the door. But it was said in that “Let’s meet for lunch sometime” kind of voice. They weren’t saying “I’d love to get up early and run over to your house in the dark before work to let your chickens out and put out fresh food and clean their droppings tray each morning.” I could tell. All the kids in our area, including my own, had left for college, leaving no poor students wanting extra spending money. I was running out of options. So I called my sister. What else is family for?
My sister is not what you would call an animal lover. She’s not keen on cats and has stood her ground for almost two decades, repeatedly turning down her two boys’ requests for a dog ever since they could talk. She does tolerate Boris, a Russian box turtle, because he eats infrequently and disappears for days at a time in his summer home in the garden. I figured chickens might be just the thing for her.
I’m still not sure why she agreed. The grown-up in me believed it was out of the goodness of her heart. The inner kid in me was sure she was going to add it to the long tally of things she’d done for me, and some day I was going to have to pay up. Or, even worse, she would lord it over me for the rest of my days. Who knows what I’d have to do to make it even. I could see us in our eighties. She’d be saying in a reedy little elderly voice, “Remember when I took care of your chickens?” I was willing to risk even that. I was desperate.
My sister lives across town. This means the chickens had to come to her. The unfortunate part about having a portable coop is you actually believe the advertising and make plans to cart said coop around town. I was going to dismantle both the coop and the run, borrow a large SUV, and load the coop into it. The run would go into our smaller car, and the chickens would be in a traveling cage for the drive across town. After setting up the coop and the run, I was going to run through a list of instructions with my sister that were detailed enough to open a chicken franchise operation, settle the chicks, and drive back.
It was a sunny October morning, and I naively let the chickens out as usual. They always came back for a good treat, so I wasn’t worried. After lunch, I easily swooped up Cleo and Roxanne and led them both into the traveling cage. Lulu, however, probably sensing that something was up, avoided the treats as if they were poison. No amount of coaxing, cajoling, or trickery worked. So I tried catching her. What was I thinking?
A chicken on the run is an impressive sight. Lulu, my crazy one, has perfected the chase scene to an art. Her pirouettes rival the top ballerinas as she rises, spins 180 degrees, then runs with outstretched wings toward the back fence. She’ll leap in a zigzag pattern from one tree to the next, making me dizzy.
I soon realized I was outmatched and recruited Marty to help. It seemed so simple. With two of