An Announcement and a Consolation Prize (Spoiler Alert: the Prize is Sourdough)

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Hi, friends! Yes, I'm still alive and no, I'm probably not going to start this blog back up – I just don't have time anymore, what with my full-time job, my budding freelance writing career, and the novel(s?) I'm trying to write while I continue to try to get my second memoir published. If you can believe it, that's only like 60% of what I have going on right now. 

But I'm not here to participate in the glorification of busy! To be honest, nobody should be as busy as I am. I wouldn't choose this life if there weren't so many things I can't resist getting involved in. What I am here to do is fill you in on a change in the FeedBurner tool that allowed some of you to get these new posts in your email inboxes. That feature is going away, so even if/when I do write the odd Linzers post you won't get an email about it after August 15th.

So what can you do about it? Well, you can check in here via the blog's homepage, but frankly I doubt I'll post again – maybe once a year or so, if at all. If you want to hear from me, and you weren't just in it for the recipes (which, fair enough if you were), you can subscribe to my newsletter: A Few Good Things. It's a lot about writing, a little about reading, and all about nontoxic positivity.

"They're hella good – double cranberry – write that": (Double) Cranberry Orange Buns for my Husband

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Friends! It is I, Anne, here for my annual Linzers post!

Yeah...I can't really believe I've only posted three times in the past three years...I'm sorry. The truth is, I've been all over the place, literally and figuratively: in 2017 I moved to Washington with my fiancé, was desperately lonely and unemployed for a few months, then started working at David's Bridal – at least up here, the brides were pretty great on the whole – and as the year turned I was exhausted all the time and really too poor to bake much and too uninspired to write much of anything. Then I got what I thought would be a great job – a writing job! – in May 2018, and the six months that I worked there were a blur of hideous overworkedness and even more exhaustion (and even less writing), combined with wedding planning and accompanying family drama.

In September we had our wedding – there's a pic below, because I can't resist – and I baked a boatload of cookies but didn't have the wherewithal to post. That said, I made three recipes and all were loved by the guests, so here they are: snickerdoodles, chocolate chip, and the surprise favorite, oatmeal raisin.

After the wedding, we had two weeks to pack before moving into the house we closed on four days before the wedding, and two weeks after the move we went to London to celebrate our marriage with friends there – see? I told you things have been nutso! Here's a pic from that trip, when we took the Overground in our wedding finery:

Then, two weeks after we got back from London, I went down to SF for a week for my nephew's bar mitzvah and my friend's baby shower. So it wasn't until mid-November that I had a moment to breathe and bake, and honestly with the exception of pumpkin pie I didn't have the energy to do much besides loaf (pun not intended, but definitely enjoyed) on the couch and watch Netflix between bursts of unpacking/painting/cleaning/home improvement.

But surely, if nothing else, Christmas calls for setting aside life upkeep for a minute and forcing some cheer into the everyday – as an example here's a bonus pic of our repainted mantle covered in holiday nonsense:

And in the name of said holiday cheer, I determined to bake something special for my husband (it still startles me that I actually have a husband). Now, this is a man who enjoys baked goods but will never, ever, choose room for dessert over more bites of meat – really, he'd rather have salt and vinegar chips/crisps than chocolate any day – which can be challenging for me, as a sweet tooth who relies on her partner to share in the enjoyment of/save her from indulgences. He does an admirable job, though, so this time around I really wanted to make something he would get genuinely excited about; as usual, Smitten Kitchen came through for me.

If he's not going to be eating something sour or savory, my husband will veer immediately toward the tart (no comment on my chastity, please), so when I saw these cranberry orange buns I knew he'd love them. To further tweak them in favor of his preferences, I doubled the cranberries (don't do this – while it was delicious, it caused a lot of extra juice, which led to the extra step of pouring it out and I think also made them take longer to cook) and halved the icing (I do recommend this, if you're not into super sweet stuff).

Anyway, as you probably gleaned from the title of this post, my husband loved the buns (again, no comment) – he even insisted on keeping all 12 for our household, instead of letting me give some away to neighbors! The highest of praise.

(Double) Cranberry-Orange (Breakfast) Buns
   from SK

AHP Note: Deb's recipe calls for the second rise to be in the fridge overnight. That sounded perfect when my husband and I were planning to drive to California on Thursday morning. But when we learned he would have to work Thursday we pushed our early nuclear-family Christmas celebration up by 12 hours and there went my overnight rise. I recommend following the original instructions, since I'm certainly no yeasted-dough expert and I'm not at all sure my buns wouldn't have been much tenderer given a slower second rise, but if you do find yourself pressed for time it worked for me to let them rise on the counter for about 90 minutes before baking.

Make your dough. In the bowl of a stand mixer (if you don't have a stand mixer, check the SK link for detailed instructions), combine:
     4 large egg yolks
     1 large whole egg
     1/4c (50g) granulated sugar
     6 Tbsp (85g) melted butter
     3/4c (175 ml) buttermilk
     3/4 of the finely grated zest of 1 orange (reserving the last 1/4 for the filling)

Add, stirring until evenly moistened:
     2c all-purpose flour
     1 packet (7g or 2 1/4 teaspoons) instant dry yeast (AKA Bread Machine or Rapid Rise yeast)
     1 1/4+ tsp coarse or kosher salt, to taste

Switch to dough hook and work in:
     3/4 c flour

Knead the mixture on low for 5 to 7 minutes, until dough is soft and moist but not sticky, then scrape dough onto the clean counter or a plate while you oil the mixer bowl – put dough back into bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise at room temp until doubled – 2-2.5 hours.

When your dough has risen, make the filling. Melt and set aside:
     1 1/2 Tbsp (20g) butter


In a food processor or with a large, sharp knife, dice into 'coarse rubble' (Deb's exact words):
     1c (115g) fresh cranberries

Butter a 9x13 ceramic or glass baking dish and turn your dough out onto a clean, floured counter or large cutting board (if your counter is never clean enough, like mine). Do your best to roll it into an 18x12 rectangle (evidence of my consistent failure to roll out neat edges or tidy my work space is below) – the long side should be nearest to you. 

Brush the dough with your melted butter, then sprinkle on:
     1c (190g) packed light brown sugar

Add your cranberry rubble and the last of your orange zest.

Roll the dough tightly along the shorter edge, resulting in an 18"-long spiral log. Cut with a very sharp, serrated knife into 1 1/2-inch wide discs. Place the buns (there should be 12, but I got 13) in the prepared baking dish, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate overnight (up to 16 hours).

Bake the buns. Allow buns to warm up to room temp for 30 minutes while you preheat your oven to 350F/175C. Bake until the buns are puffed and golden and a thermometer inserted into the dough reads 190F (for me, this meant the corner/edge buns were a little dry – but again that's probably down to the additional moisture from cranberry overload).

When buns are cooked, place pan on cooling rack and let cool for 15 minutes. Then whisk together and pour over the top (again, I halved these measurements):
     3 1/2 Tbsp (55 ml) strained orange juice
     2c (240g) powdered sugar

Serve and enjoy!

A Life in Seasons (Real Ones!) and Apple Cider Caramels

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I was spurred to write this post by two things (the usual two): a big life change and a recipe I just had to share.

We Cooked Seafood By the Seashore – Sicilian Mussels and Rolled Sardines in Sicily

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When we were planning our epic European summer trip, my boyfriend and I chose to stay mostly in apartments – we did this partly because it was cheaper than staying in hotels and more private than staying in hostels (which we did in Naples, and that was a weird flashback to my twenties), but only partly.  The other reason we chose apartment living was, as ever, food-related: we wanted to be able to cook, ideally making use of local ingredients we wouldn't have access to at home.

So, given that information, you might be surprised to learn that we didn't cook in our own place once for the entire trip – not in Berlin, or Bologna (where we did cook in someone else's home), or Rome, or any of the other cities where we had access to our own kitchen.  Oh, sure, we made coffee, and ate cheeses and meats which we bought at markets and grocery stores, and drank wine...but we didn't actually cook a meal.

My Bologna Has a First Name – Learning to Make Pasta the Bolognese Way with Taste of Italy

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Holy crap – it’s been a YEAR since I posted here.  I am so ashamed.  To be fair, the past year has been the busiest of my life so far: I started teaching middle school, jumping right in at the deep end with no previous full-time experience, and I was (as you’d probably have guessed) completely consumed.  Any time I had to myself was spent grading, answering parent and student emails, lesson planning, or maybe, if I got really lucky, zoning out in front of a crappy TV show with a bottle of wine and my concerned boyfriend.  Needless to say, I didn’t cook much, let alone photograph it.  Which is too bad, really, since my apartment was super cute and photogenic, and living off Goldfish all year left me unhealthy and heavier than usual by June…  

Anyway, excuses aside, I come back now to share just a smidgen of the bounty from my much-needed summer vacation!  My boyfriend and I saved up a few thousand dollars, freed ourselves from our responsibilities, and set off for Europe the week after school let out – we went to Berlin for a week, then took trains through Austria and all down through Italy, ending in Sicily, and then we hopped over to France for a few weeks to help a friend with her new baby.  It was a pretty epic 7.5-week journey (all of which is documented on my Instagram feed), and while we didn’t cook often, what we did cook was as epic as the trip itself.

Cocktails or Cake – Why Not Both? Limoncello Birthday Cake with Campari Frosting

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Remember when I made that adorable ha-cake for my friend's half birthday?  Well, luckily for me, despite generally preferring savory to sweet, K does love a good celebration cake, so when her full birthday rolled around this year she requested a cake that incorporated one of her favorite things: booze.  Specifically, Campari, which she fell in love with during a trip to Italy a couple years ago and which has been so well-loved as to have spawned its own hashtag.

Even better than suggesting (I won't go so far as to say demanding) a specific cake for her birthday, K suggested we bake it together, at my parents' house in the Napa Valley.  K is a food blogger too, although she focuses more on savory dishes and wine pairings, and while we've cooked together (we lived together for a while and we made some delicious dinners) we've never baked.  Plus, since she moved to Napa last year we get far too little bonding time, and this sounded like an excellent way to get some 'us' time (plus our assistant, but he's good at respecting our girl time).

So without further ado, to the cake-baking!  Of course, we started with booze: Negronis (a classic Campari drink), natch, mixed by our handsome assistant (to whom also goes credit for all the photos herein and on Flickr).

Another Win for Laziness: Chocolate Chip (Etc) Cookie Bars

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The first time, I made them because I needed something easy and transportable for a graduation party and I knew I wouldn't have time to wait for the butter in my freezer to soften, or to make multiple batches of drop cookies.  I googled 'melted butter cookie bars' and voila!  Bloggers to the rescue, as usual.

The recipe was super simple and I had all the ingredients, plus some pecans I thought would enhance the flavor of half the bars (we have a friend with a nut allergy so I wanted to leave half plain), and nobody was expecting cookies so the pressure was off.  I gave it a go and an hour later my companion and I were burning our fingers trying to 'test' the batch.

#chocolatechipcookiebars with pecans only on half (out of deference to our allergic brethren). #noms #baking #stuffourfaces #prettythings

A photo posted by Anne H. Putnam (@ahputnam) on May 23, 2015 at 3:38pm PDT

Once we were able to try a bite, we agreed: these things are good.  So good that I ate three that night, which is unusual for me – often when I bake something, no matter how tasty it is, I tire of it quickly and am obliged to convince someone else to eat the rest.  It's no coincidence that I favor tall boyfriends with hollow legs ;)

In this case, though, not only did I eat a bunch of the baked good in question but I also started thinking about making them again almost immediately upon leaving the party (I nearly brought home a couple bars but I stopped just short of embarrassing myself that much).  So when I was gifted two glass jars of Nutella from Italy and was antsy to use one as a wine glass, I knew exactly how to put the Nutella inside to good use.

The point is this: these bars are infinitely adaptable.  They were delicious with pecans, indulgent with Nutella, and likely would be even more toothsomely tasty with oats – that's my plan for next time!  In other words, make these.  As soon as humanly possible.

You're welcome.


Chocolate Chip (Etc) Cookie Bars
    Adapted for pecans/Nutella from Em's Bytes  
    (I doubled the recipe the first time and used an 8x13 pan – ain't nothin' wrong with twice the amount of this goodness)

Preheat oven to 350F/175C and grease an 8" pan, square or cake, whatever you have.
 
Mix together in a large bowl:
     1/2c (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
     1/4c sugar
     1/2c brown sugar

Beat in: 
     1 egg
     1 tsp vanilla
 
Add and stir until combined:
     1 c flour
     1 tsp baking powder
     1/4 tsp salt

Stir in:
     1c semi-sweet chocolate chips
     1c chopped pecans (optional – you can also place them on top of the dough once it's in the pan, if you fancy the look or want to limit their reach) 

Spread into prepared pan, pausing to top with blobs of Nutella if desired, and bake 20-25 minutes, or until golden brown. (Side note: mine never got as golden as I'd like, but I'm glad I pulled the first batch out when I did anyway, as they were getting close to dry.  I suggest using the cake tester method if in doubt, and remembering that gooey cookies are always better than dry.)

Lazy Bear: A Revelation for a Cranky Old SF Cynic

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I had the excellent luck last month to: A) meet a couple of awesome new friends at a shared table at brunch, B) become part of a dinner-going group with them and my friend A, with whom I went to Rome in December and who has brilliant connections and a serious take-charge attitude, leading to the four of us C) going to Lazy Bear for one of the most remarkable dining experiences I've ever had in my relatively charmed life.

I was extremely skeptical at first – Lazy Bear is a sort of private dinner club-turned restaurant that is super expensive and notoriously difficult to get tickets for, a combination that heightens my hype-dar immediately.  But I didn't want to be a party pooper and I had a little extra cash cushion so I agreed to go.  On the day of the dinner, a gorgeous sunny Saturday, I was loathe to get dressed up and go to what I was sure would be an overproduced and underdelivering San Francisco wankfest (pardon my French but I really was feeling very wary).  But almost from the minute I walked in the door, the first to arrive, my expectations were proven wrong.  

Monkeying Around with Birthday Cakes

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When my sister told me that her daughter, who turned three last week, had requested three cakes for her birthday party, I immediately volunteered to bake one of them.  I adore my niece and nephew and have had a blast getting to know them better since moving back from London, but I still see them rarely enough that any opportunity to impress them is worth jumping on.  It only got better when my sister told me the only other request my niece had made: that the party be 'a monkey party'.

I remembered a cake I'd seen on Smitten Kitchen, years back, a monkey face that looked surprisingly easy to put together.  A quick google confirmed my suspicions that this was something I could definitely handle, and I spent the rest of the day at work printing recipes, doubling and tripling ingredient lists, and blocking off the day before the party in my phone calendar.  I was going to go all out this time.

Ruminations on Perfectionism and Lemon Cream Pie

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One of my favorite things anyone has ever said to me about writing was a Voltaire quote one of my wonderful teachers passed on to us in the early months of my MA: "don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good".  After years of angsting about writing rather than doing it, my bookshelf littered with beautiful, empty journals too pretty to write mediocre things in, that sentiment resonated hard in my heart.  I determined to give myself credit simply for doing, even just for trying, or simply for remembering an idea – anything to encourage myself to build up momentum instead of stopping in despair.  And it worked, most of the time.  Okay, the beautiful journals still sit empty on the shelf, but now I buy myself unimpressive, blandly designed journals and write in them without concern for perfection.  And when I was in Italy, my amazing friend and writing coach Magda held me to a deadline of 5,000 words a week, and I gave myself the space to write about anything I felt inspired to write – of course, what this means is that I now have somewhere around 40,000 words to sift through and fill holes in, and the majority of what I have is off-plot-line or too heavily biased toward subject matter that was less excruciating to write about, but it's a start.  And that was good enough, at least for the moment.  

My attitude toward baking is similar: as long as people can eat it and enjoy it, I'm happy.  My baked goods rarely come out looking beautiful or professional, and they're almost never consistent in size/texture/bake, which is the main reason I never even considered doing GBBO.  Still, my laid back attitude sometimes leads to legitimate failure in the kitchen (two weeks ago I made some very dense 'muffins', 70% of which I threw out).  And it doesn't always hold up in the face of potential let-downs.  I have definitely had my baking meltdowns, as well as plenty of cases of simple 'that wasn't good enough' melancholy.  For example, the lemon cream pie I made last weekend hit a few too many snags and had me feeling pretty crappy for a while, and now that I want to post about it and I'm looking at these photos in the light of day, after spending all evening editing them with f.lux on, then turning it off and trying to undo the damage, all I can say is 'I'm sorry'.  I'd like to re-do all of it – the pies, the photo editing, even my hair in the photos – but I'd rather get this post up and keep the small amount of momentum I'm beginning to rebuild here in this, my little bakery corner of the internet.

So in the spirit of doing rather than perfecting, let's get cracking on this post about lemon cream pie!  (Sorry I'm not sorry about that pun.)

Prosciutto and Pastries and Prosecco, Oh My! The Foodie Low-Down on My Italian Adventure

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#stuffmyface #ItalyAdventure #girltime by @ahputnam

Hello, strangers! I realize I haven’t seen you around here in MONTHS, and that’s entirely my fault. I had this idea (I’m always having these ideas…) that when I was in Italy I would cook and photograph it (badly, with my iPhone) for you, and post at least once or twice, but alas, like so many of my ideas this one lacked follow-through. I did very little of anything that could be called ‘cooking’, preferring to spend my time eating paprika-flavored Pringles and making Caprese salads and roasted chicken breast and veggies when I needed to eat a real meal inside my home. And of course much of my consumption happened outside the apartment, because: ITALY. That said, I did make a Thanksgiving dinner for my Italian friends (and a few Americans), including my famous pumpkin pie recipe and a whole roasted turkey that would have fed twice as many of us, so the trip wasn’t completely without kitchen activity.

For those of you who don’t follow me on Instagram or Twitter, I offer here by way of apology for my absence some of my favorite foodie photos from the trip (for those of you who do follow me, I’m throwing in some new pics), and at the end of the post I’ll link to the recipes I used for Thanksgiving – I’m happy to report that the Italians were properly blown away, especially by the pumpkin pie and the stuffing, which was unlike anything they’d ever tried before. I also promise to work harder to get back to our regularly scheduled programming, and to share some of the exciting developments that have occurred in my life since last we met.

Pics and captions are after the jump!

Let's Just Hope My Language Skills Are a Little More Authentic... Americanized Tiramisu and an Announcement!

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Things have been reeeeaaaaally quiet over here on the baking blog – lest you think I hadn't noticed my neglect, rest assured that it's been bugging me for weeks.  I started working full time in April and since then my free time has been less plentiful and often takes place outside the hours of good natural light so essential to food photography.  I also lived in an apartment with a shared kitchen stocked with other people's things, so I never knew what supplies I had to make a recipe.

None of this is an excuse, though.  I should have prioritized this blog more.  Baking makes me happy, as does blogging about it, but for some reason I haven't done either for the past few months.  It's been a rough year, but I'm finally starting to feel like there's a light at the end of the tunnel, which should mean more energy and time and love to put into baked goods.  The only catch is that I'm moving again, this time to Italy – I'll be living off savings and spending my days writing and yoga-ing and writing and hiking and writing.  Hopefully a new book will form in those months of having nothing on my plate but writing and pasta.  In which case, you may not see me here for a little bit longer.  That said, should I find myself in need of a break from the computer screen, which is pretty likely, and hiking isn't doing the trick, you can bet I'll share whatever concoction I whip up over there on this blog here – fair warning, though, I'm not bringing my nice camera, so it'll be all-iPhone pics, all the time.

I knew I wanted to share this big change in my life with all of you (especially those of you who have been SO patient while I post so erratically!), so when a recipe for tiramisu landed in my inbox, it seemed like serendipity; I decided (despite this disturbing typo in the recipe) that I wanted to make it to celebrate my upcoming move and announce it here on the blog that has seen me through so many changes in location and circumstance.  There were, as is customary in my life, a few things that went differently from the plan, but I got there in the end and the result was delicious – I can only hope my non-food-related life winds up so successful!

Last Minute and Low Supply: Vanilla Bean (Apricot) Shortbread Cookies

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(This will be a shorty because I've been asked for the recipe enough times in the last 24 hours to get me to write the post the day after these cookies were baked and consumed.  I know – bonkers fast for me!)

I went to a friend's Summer Solstice barbecue yesterday, and when I woke up late, a bit hungover after a night out, I suddenly realized that while I had offered to bake cookies for the party I had a seriously limited stock in my cabinets.  I knew I had butter (in fact, despite being tipsy the night before when I got home, I had even remembered to take a stick out of the freezer and let it soften on the counter), and I knew I had flour and sugar, but I was eggless, and my roommate who moved out recently took her raising agents with her, so I was pretty much at a loss for ideas on what to make.  BUT THEN!  Inspiration struck.  Shortbread doesn't have eggs or raising agents!

A Long Time Coming: Apple Slab Pie Worth Making Thrice

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I made SK's apple slab pie last fall to great acclaim – in fact, the reception was so positive that I wound up making it three times in the space of a week, and there was nary a slice left over that wasn't immediately gobbled up by my parents' neighbors and their nine year old twins.  So why haven't I written it up until now, you ask?  Or, more accurately, you demand, with a stamp of the foot and the missed opportunity of apple slab pie on your palate?

I have no excuse.  There is no amount of busy-ness or family drama or house-/job hunting that can explain why I didn't stay up all night editing photos and writing up the recipe.  I just...didn't.  And I'm truly sorry, because you've all been missing out.  But I plan to make amends now; better late than never!

But not for you, when it comes to making this pie.  Get on it.  Seriously, you guys, this thing is TASTY.  Not too sweet, with a flaky, buttery handmade double crust just bursting with appley goodness.  And yes, you read that right: I made the crust from scratch.  I almost never do that, especially here in the US, where frozen pie crust is so easy to come by and decently tasty, but this time I figured I might as well make use of my mom's Cuisinart and spare myself the math of trying to make a long rectangle out of two pre-made circles.

Blogged in the Nick of Time: Easter Baking Experiments

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Last weekend, my brother's girlfriend (and my friend) Rachel and I did an Easter crafting day, where we made ridiculously cute magnets to gift to family members in their Easter baskets – we also decided that this weekend we would do even more crafting, this time in the form of baking.  She set her heart on making these super cute fluffy chick cookies, with a further lamb variation of her own invention, while I chose the much easier-looking (if frequently warned-against) bunny bread rolls that have been all over Pinterest of late.  I bought frozen parkerhouse rolls and she showed up in Napa with all her many ingredients in hand, and right after a boozy brunch and a wee wander we came back to the house and got to work.

And by 'got to work', I mean that I pulled some rolls out to defrost and she got started on the first of six or seven relatively involved steps.  This post is going to be mostly photos, with a bit of description alongside, but since (spoiler alert) Rachel's recipe turned out to be a bust and mine is little more than a set of vague instructions, there will be more links and tips than actual directions here, in case you want to recreate anything.

Getting Rid of Reminders, Deliciously: Pistachio Pound Cake

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I once shared my life with a boy who adored pistachios.  He demolished them roasted and salted, and thoroughly enjoyed them in biscotti, but his absolute favorite form was gelato, preferably consumed in Rome.  Whenever I see pistachio gelato, I think of him.  Another of his favorite treats is a bag of traditional Italian almond cookies, and when we were together I made these knockoffs for him – the same day I bought the almond crème I used in that much loved recipe, I also picked up a jar of pistachio crème, with the express intention of using it to make pure pistachio cookies for him on some special occasion.

Unfortunately, despite there being many ‘special occasions’ that last year, somehow the cookies were never a top priority.  The jar sat in the kitchen, patiently waiting to be used by some day before February 28, 2014.  At the time that seemed miles away, yet February came upon me so fast and here was the jar, still staring at me; when the boy it was intended for broke my heart I had thought to pour the crème all over his expensive clothes and fancy felt hat, but instead I packed it in my suitcase and took it with me to America, hoping to one day make something sweet for someone else.

Well, I didn’t make it for anyone else, but that was a silly thought – and a spiteful one – anyway.  I don’t really bake for the men I date, after my banana bread received a middling (and I’m pretty sure pure negging) review from someone I dated back in October.  The sheer blasphemy was enough to end that brief dalliance (not really, but it was one of the nails in the coffin).  No, these days I bake for family and friends, and for myself, and I try to pour as much love as I can into those treats, as if to make up for all the love I spent on the boy who threw it all away.

Any Excuse for a Celebration: Half Birthdays and Ha-Cakes

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It’s holiday time in the blogosphere – everywhere I look I see recipes for Christmas cookies or Hanukkah cakes or generalized ‘winter holidays’-themed party food.  But I think you’re all forgetting the most important holiday of the year: my friend K’s half-birthday.

Yes, I said half-birthday.  I can’t tell you how many people have balked when I tell them I’m planning to make a half-cake for K.  “Half-birthday?” they ask, incredulous, “isn’t that just for kids?”  Well, yes.  It is.  But one of the things I love about K is that she is pretty much the definition of unabashed.  She wants to celebrate her half-birthday with a few friends, some tasty food, and a ha-cake (as in hapenny, jeez), and honestly I don’t see any problem with that.  It is a bit strange for a grown woman to count her age in halves, to be sure, but on the other hand, couldn’t we all use a little more whimsy and celebration in our lives?  I know I could.

Adventures in Baking in Other People's Kitchens: Blueberry Olive Oil Cake

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Baking at my parents' house is always a bit of a...complicated adventure.  Whereas I'd slowly and methodically built up a system in the London home where I lived for four years – I knew which specialty pans and ingredients I did and didn't have, and what stocks were low in the baking cupboard – living here in someone else's house, and especially working in someone else's kitchen, has really been a challenge.  I never know what ingredients we have, in what quantities, and in what state of freshness (the other day I used molasses with a 'best before' in 2012, which is actually really recent for my mom's cupboards – it was fine).  And while the double oven gas Viking range is amazing, the rest of the supplies are sketchy at best: we have a mini muffin pan and a popover pan, but no normal muffin tins; a heart-shaped silicone cake pan but no loaf pans; and one usable cookie sheet.  One.

So when I offered to bake something with the blueberries that were lingering on their last legs in the fancy fridge drawers a few weeks ago, I figured it would be an experiment.  I wasn't really prepared for just how many things I would need to change, but I was at least ready to be flexible.  And thank goodness for that!

Making my excuses, and hoping for the future

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I know it's been an inordinately long time since I've written, and I actually wish I didn't have such a good excuse.  But unfortunately I do.

My engagement fell apart (and with it all my happiness and stability and functionality) in a most spectacular and traumatic way back in June, after months of pain and torment – obviously, I wasn't doing much baking during that time, and the aftermath was too filled with tears and logistics and fleeing the country for me to be thinking much about food at all.  I was lucky if I could remember/force myself to eat one small meal a day.  Needless to say, there wasn't much I could say here that would be anything but depressing, so I stayed away while I tried to pick up the pieces of a life I no longer wanted to live.  I moved back to San Francisco and am currently living with my parents while I try to get through this extremely dark time.  It's been the most difficult few months of my entire life, and there have been days when, if Morpheus had offered me one pill to keep going and one to stop everything right then, I would certainly have taken the latter pill.

But, and this is important, there have been bright spots.  Hours, even a few hours in a row, when I forget how much pain I'm in.  And every month there have been more of those hours – this month there have been whole days.  It feels like nothing short of a miracle, and I spend a lot of my time waiting for the relapse (there have been many of those, some unbearably long and brutal), but it seems time is finally starting to heal me a little bit.

And then a few days ago, I baked a galette.  It hardly counts as baking, since the dough was given to us by a neighbor and my mother prepped the apple-pears, so I literally just tossed the fruit with some sugar and spices, rolled out the dough, and brushed melted butter over the top, but it was a start.  And I had a feeling that things might actually be okay one day, far off in the future.

So to thank you for sticking around through my long hiatus, and as I ask you to please bear with me as I continue to gather the shreds of my heart and paste them together with spit and mud – I'm not as sharp as I was before all this, but hopefully that's temporary – I offer you this 'recipe' for an easy free-form galette.  It may not be much of a project, but it lifted my spirits and made me believe for a moment that maybe I could patch my life back together with a little patience and melted butter.  I hope for you it's at least a semi-pretty and tasty solution to the question of what to serve after dinner with friends.

A Dream Deferred: Italian Almond Cookies

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When my guy and I were in Rome a couple of years ago with my brother and his girlfriend for Christmas, the apartment we stayed in was just down the street from a tiny bakery that had the reputation of selling some of the best cookies and panettone in the whole city – a lucky accident of which we took full advantage!  Every few days we would wander in and make use of my ever-more-limited Italian to buy a bag of treats: chocolate-dipped Christmas trees, jam studded thumbprints, mini pistachio biscotti, and our absolute favorites, chewy, dense, heavy-sweet almond cookies.  Those ones were always the first to go, and we kept finding ourselves having to negotiate over who got the last one.  If only I didn't require so much time stalling while I tried to remember the word for almond (mandorla – of course now I can remember it!), we might have just gotten bagfuls of those each time and called it a day!

So of course the minute we got back to the UK I looked up a recipe.  And then I bookmarked that recipe, bought ground almonds, and... promptly put off making the cookies.  I think I avoided it for so long at first because almond paste (one of the main ingredients) is super expensive, but after a while I just kept forgetting about them.