You and me?  We always talk about yummy things.  Today we need to talk about pretty things.

These beautiful porcelain creations are the work of Alyssa Ettinger.  Alyssa makes pretty things with her hands… let me explain.

Alyssa makes these beautiful porcelain Ball jar and the small little sweater inspired votive holders using a process called “slip-casting”.  It’s all about casting found objects in ceramic and then casting them in liquid porcelain.  Liquid porcelain people…. don’t let me get my hands on liquid porcelain…. I’d porcelainize every cupcake I could get my hand on.  I’m not kidding. 

Alyssa has found old bottles at antique stores and NYC dumps, and created something pretty, delicate, and new.  My favorite are these sweater vases…. absolutely gorgeous.

I love that beauty can inspire artists to make new out of old.
I love when pretty things glow.
I love that something as simple as a Ball jar can be transformed by the hands of an artist into something special.

also… I love bourbon… which has nothing to do with anything at all.

I’ve got a lot of weddings to go to this summer.  Every couple is getting a sweater vase…. yea… they’re pretty lucky.  

Check out Alyssa’s work. Care and beauty ooze from the art she creates.  She makes pieces to be cherished… and that’s saying a lot these days.   

Update!

Wow y’all!  Thanks for all the inspiration!  You’ve certainly got my gears working.  I’ve got summer berries in the works.  I’m plotting some lavender goodness.  And chocolate never goes out of season… does it!?  Our tart pan winner is… drum roll…

Look at this!  Bright!  Shiny!  Scalloped!

It’s a tart pan with a removable bottom.  It’s pretty snazzy.

For some reason,  it took me about 28 and 3/4 years to buy one of these pans.  I thought these pans were for super fancy bakers that make fancy French style fruit tarts all day and all night.

It turns out… this 9-inch tart pan is our secret weapon against having to roll out pie crust.  That’s right!  Secret weapon.

With this tart pan all you have to do is throw together a dough and press it into the pan.  Press.  Not roll.  Just like I did for this Strawberry Banana Cream Pie.  Genius.

And!  The best news ever!  I’m giving away one tart pan this weekend.

All you have to do is leave me a little comment inspiration.  Tell me something you’d like me to bake up and post on Joy the Baker by the end of this Sunday, April 25th… and you could have a tart pan delivered right to your doorstep!

My next move with this pan?  Brownie Pie.  It’ll happen.  Prepare yourself.

Here are the facts:

I had grand plans to make a Dr Pepper cake for a certain cute red headed boy for his birthday.  

I had these grand plans because I wanted to impress this certain boy with my ninja-like baking skills. 

I found a book.  I found a recipe.  I bought Dr. Pepper.  I whipped up the batter.  I threw together the frosting.  I married the cake and frosting.  

Aaaaand…

Gross.  Icky.  Yuck.  Creepy moist.  Too sweet.  Thumbs down.  Not good.  Not cute.  Not any way to celebrate a birthday.

Maybe the addition of marshmallows should have been a red flag.

I had to go with the ‘it’s the thought that counts’ defense… sort of unacceptable when your name is Joy the (freaking) Baker.   

Now you know the facts.  Now maybe you can help.  

What’s your favorite soda pop cake recipe?  I’ve got to redeem myself.  Any suggestions?

I’m pretty sure I spent my weekend traveling through the center of California… in a car… where I sang every single word the the latest Maroon 5 album exactly 4 and 3/4 times… before I drove myself downright crazy.

Why all the car time?  

I went up to Sonoma to teach another baking class.  Holyheckballs… it was fun.  See evidence below. 

We made Red Velvet Black and White Cookies.  Allison looks like a pro. 

Speaking of Allison… meet Allison and Mary.  They have a super charming blog called  Butter plus Cream.  Go say hello.  I like them.  

Cathy brought her mother and mother-in-law to the baking class.  Seriously.  How precious is that?

Christine has great hair.  Maybe when I grow up I’ll have straight shiny hair too.  

Aida… the beauty in the blue.. came to Sonoma all the way from Denmark.  It was her first time in the states and her first time scooping frosting with a big group of sugar happy Americans. 

Meet mother and daughter Lia and Rowan.  Look at these faces.  Gorgeous.  

Lia wanted to play with my camera… and this happened.  

Then Lia made this happen… 

Then blam-o!  A whole lotta face. 

The class was a success.  I know because I arrived at a friend’s house in Oakland buzzing from sugar consumption.  Then I discovered the most glorious and terrible thing ever.  Dominos pizza online ordering.  When you place your order the site provides a little blinking timeline of the status of your pizza.  This could be a problem.  I may never leave the house again.  

Gross.  I know.  I’m not proud. 

I hit the road back to Los Angeles Sunday morning.  I channeled my inner Pioneer Woman and stopped to take a few pictures of cows.  Because… well… I was sick of singing Maroon 5 songs to myself.  

Thank you to all the lovely people at Ramekins who made my class possible:  Lisa, Annie, Yvette, Lori and Terry.  You people are rock stars.  Thank you. 

Now if you’ll excuse me… I’m having bread and butter for dinner.  Gotta run. 

We three?  We always have our mouths in motion, our wine glasses full and our eyes wide… looking for trouble.  

Let me introduce you to On the Lamb Food and Beverage.  We’re a roving catering and events firm made up of three unstoppable Los Angeles women:  Whitney (the sommelier), Rachel (the chef), and Joy (the baker).  

How does this all work?  Here’s how:

First we find an often obscure, always stellar location around Los Angeles.  We design an amazing theme and a ridiculous menu.  Then, here’s the best part… we invite you.  You come.  You meet other cool, unpretentious people who are as dorky about food and drink as you are.  You have a great time and love your life.  That’s exactly how it works.  

Our next event:  The One Night (Stand) Speakeasy on 02.14.2010.  

Would you like to keep up with On the Lamb?  

Email onthelambfb (at) gmail (dot) com to put your name on the email list.  Space is always limited at these shindigs, so be diligent.  We know how to throw a party.  That’s a fact. 

All up in the Internet?  You’ll also find us cavorting around Twitter and Facebook like a bunch of floozies.  Join us!

Voting is underway for the 2010 Bloggies… you know, the Weblog Awards that are now ten years strong.  

What’s the deal?  People blog.  People make awards.  People vote.  It’s not too complicated… it’s also kinda fun. 

I’ve used the Bloggies voting page to find some amazing new (to me) blogs.

17 and Baking.  You’re my new favorite…. but I think I might have a baking bias.  Honestly.

The Bloggess… ooh you have made me laugh.. oooh you have made me blush. 

Oh!  Now might be a good time to mention that Joy the Baker was nominated for Best Food Blog.  That this happened is… I dunno… a cross between a miracle and a dirty trick.  It’s fun.  It’s humbling… and heck yes!  I’m excited. 

Go on… find some new favorites, case a few votes.  

Joy the Baker is two years old.  Two years of cookies.  Two years of cupcakes.  Two years of pancakes.  Two years of me standing on a chair in my dining room trying to get the right shot of a slice of cake before I gobble it up.  Two years of me.  Two years of you.  

Here’s what the last two years have looked like around these parts.  Come along… let’s reminisce. 

Once upon a time I made a podcast.  It’s totally dorky.  I can’t bear to watch it.  It’s like listening to your own voice on the answering machine.  Too much.  Totally.  Dorky.  

I made these cookies waaaay back in the day when Barack Obama was still battling it out with Hillary Clinton.  My Dad hated it.  He hated it so much he left a nasty comment on my blog.  Yea…. that happened.  Thanks Dad.  Love you.  Always.

A looong time ago, we talked about how to decorate a cake!  It was fun.  There was caramel. 

I’m pretty sure I annoyed everyone in my family by taking pictures of them eating.  Just look at this sister of mine though.  Those eyes! I’ll never get over it.  Daaaang I love that girl. 

Two years ago I made an engagement cake.  Not my own engagement cake.  That wouldn’t have worked.  Yea…. wow. 

I’ve been to San Francisco a lot in the last two years.  There’s water.  There are bridges.  There’s amazing food.  If you’ve never been… well, now you know what you’re missing. 

I’ve been in love.  Love is nice.  Love should come with a warning sign. 

I’ve been on the other side of love too.  The break-up side.  Yea…. not as awesome as love.  The break-up side of love requires a lot of chocolate pudding .  More than you might think actually.  True. 

Shut up… I made doughnuts.

I love my Dad’s hands.  I’ve known them my whole life… it’s kinda weird.  Those are the hands that taught me how to bake.  Thanks Dad!  

I went to the Fancy Food Show in San Francisco.  Fancy it is not.  Snoozetown it is. 

I found a gum wall in Seattle with my name spelled out in green gum.  Turns out this is equal parts awesome and terrifying. 

I stomped through Napa like I owned the joint.  

Buttermilk biscuits make the world right.  I know.  I’ve done the research. 

Last year this little blog was named one of the 50 best food blogs in the world.  Aw, shucks.  

I don’t even want to tell you how many cakes I’ve dropped on the floor in two years. Let’s just say it’s between one and twelve… and it’s way more than one. Sometimes bad things happen to good cakes in my kitchen. 

I’ve had fun with confetti and friends in the last two years.  

S’mores Brownies.  Amazeballs. 

My Mom helped my plant a One Pot Garden.  It was lovely… until I killed it.  I don’t want to talk about it. 

I made Homemade Vanilla Extract.  You should too. 

Vegan Chocolate Cake with Avocado Buttercream.  I’m a weirdo. 

Last summer I threw a rooftop picnic in downtown Los Angeles…

and people actually came!!  Lots of people.  I love you people. 

Homemade and handmade pasta.  A dream come true. 

Last year I won Foodbuzz’s Best Baking Blog. That made me feel good about myself.  Fun fact. 

I also drank a lot of wine last year.  That made me feel good about myself too.  Wait…. that’s bad. Nevermind. 

Vacation.  Real life vacation.  I ended the last two years with a vacation, a bath tub and a lovely view from behind fancy drapes.  It was just about the most amazing thing ever. 

But really… the most amazing thing is that you decide to come here and be a part of Joy the Baker.  Maybe you’ve been here for two years, two months or two days… however long, thank you.  Really.  This little piece of Internet has become more than I ever could have imagined.  Is that totally dorky to say?  Yea… but it’s true.  I thank you.  

You’re here.  We’re friends.  That’s just how it goes.

Are you all up in my business?…  Because I want you all up in my business.  

If you follow me on Twitter, you probably know exactly when I’m…

on the road…

having breakfast…

or trying to abscond with cats that don’t belong to me.  

You also know when I’ve eaten Milk Duds for breakfast and when I’m on my fifth consecutive hour of watching Mad Men.  

Yep… you’re all up in my Twitter zone.  It’s a fun little place to post silly pictures of myself, sneak peeks at what’s going on in my kitchen, and even have the occasional giveaway.  Twitter.  Dorky and fun.  

I simultaneously thank you and apologize for being so ridiculous.  I’m glad we’re friends.

Merry Christmas from me to you.  

I hope Santa brings you peace and love, a KitchenAid mixer and a dishwasher… and a kitten.   

Thank you for being all up in my area this year.  I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you come to this little place and say nice things… everyday.  You people are truly lovely.

 See this face?  This face needs a nap for Christmas… and a kitten.  That would be amazing. 

Merry Christmas.  Happy Holidays.  Watch out for eggnog… it’ll getcha!

Here’s a fun fact:  my Mom is a scrapbooker.  She’s a serious scrapbooker.  She’s got the paper cutters, the corner choppers, the fancy albums and colorful background paper… there are stickers…. so so many stickers.  She’s for real.  Scrapbooking is the new rubber stamping.  Remember the rubber stamp craze!?  Yea, we’ve moved on.  Scrapbooking. 

I went to my parents’ house a few days ago to find these envelopes gracing the brick fireplace.  The envelope in front had my name on it.  I was hoping for an early Christmas stocking.  Boy oh boy did I get it.  Among other darling and embarrassing photos of myself, I found a chronological history of my school days.  From preschool to high school.  Every cute, awkward and downright horrifying picture.  

Now.  Because I don’t know any better.  Because I’m certifiably batty… allow me to share with you preschool through seventh grade.  The later, more awkward years will follow, and we’ll all cry. 

Though she will deny it, my Mom gave me this haircut herself.  I remember very well.  Even at four, I knew how ridiculous I looked.  

First grade.  Somehow I think I rise above this bowl haircut.  

Second grade.  That tiny headband is failing…. big time.  Nice frock.  I would totally rock that these days. Is that weird?  That’s weird. 

Nice corner fading third grade!  I feel like there are some serious adult teeth hiding out in that mouth.  

Oooh yes.  Full of teeth.   You have to grow into your teeth.  It’s true.  It’s like puppies with big paws.  Should I tell you how much I loved this Cinco de Mayo dress with matching hair ribbon?  Yes.  A lot.  

Mixed girl hair is a hard thing.  It wants to be curly.  It wants to be straight.  It wants to ruin your life.  What are you going to do?  Button your shirt all the way up and hope for the best. 

a)  Why do the school photographers make you look in the ceiling corner.  It’s awkward.  

b)  I thought this shirt was so clever.  I was right.  

Oooh Joy .  Triangle hair.  So short.  So much volume.  I wish I could have gone back in time to tell you everything would work out ok… but the truth is that you’ve got some seriously awkward years ahead of you.  Yeesh. 

Enjoy the kitchen intermission.  Laugh at me.  Please… go on… laugh.  If your Mom is a scrapbooker, you might not want to laugh as hard.  Your time for an embarrassing envelope will come.