Friday, December 14, 2007
Every Christmas - for as long as I can remember, my mom has made a Pepparkakor Hus. That's Swedish for "gingerbread house." It was a fun tradition - my mom did all the work and I got a house. I also got to take it into my classroom and share it with schoolmates (we'd smash it and eat all the stale pieces.)
That was then, but this is now and we haven't made a pepparkakor hus in years. I have never really had the desire, until I saw this.
Oh really, Red Envelope? You evil temptress with your gifts for every occasion, your clean navigation and nice product photography. Think you can also offer the end-all, be-all in gingerbread houses too!? Think you can just jump onto the mid-century bandwagon and cash in on the trend? $80 for a gingerbread house?!
HA! I'll take your mid-century and raise you a pair of Eames lounge chairs. Actually I called up mom for a plan of attack. Yeah, I'll admit I never could have designed this without her. I am not exactly artistically gifted.
Um, OK - not really. Rolling out pepperkakor dough is already a little tricky. It has to be very, very thin. Well, combine the thinness with lots of little window cutouts and doors, argh, it was really kind of a pain in the ass. I was determined though.
Nonetheless, we managed to get it assembled. Mom kept reminding me that icing covers a multitude of sins (can this theory be applied elsewhere?). Indeed it did. Armed with a piping bag and some pretty wicked icing, I went to town! I iced the hell out of this pepparkakor hus. And then it snowed - fluffy, fluffy powdered sugar snow. And behold....