a little of everything
If you came for dinner I’d most likely serve you chili. I wish I could ensure you that you’d have a green salad on the side, but there’s a good chance you wouldn’t. If, however, I got around to making it, I would serve it with homemade vinaigrette. I promise.
My mother brought me the fourth bag of apples from my parents’ garden this weekend. The first bag I threw out when they started to rot. I used some of the second to make apple pies. I used all (very proud) of the third for apple sauce and more pies. And now I plan to use some of bag number four even more pie. The only thing that nags me is that I keep baking the same pie. Not because I don’t have recipes for other apples pies but because it is easy and I know it by heart and the only other apple pie I feel like baking is my mother’s “Old English Apple Pie” which takes forever to make and tastes like there is never enough.
We owe a lot of cookbooks. And by a lot I don’t mean a shelf or two but several shelves of cookbooks. And we owe even more, but the useless ones (those you receive from people who never cook and don’t know what to look for except for pictures and a familiar name on the cover) are stored in my parents’ basement and I am often thinking I ought to throw them out and make more room for my parents’ things since it is technically their space, but I haven’t gotten around to it even though I know Italian Pies and Desserts for Beginners (or the likes of it) will never have buttery fingers on its pages.
My husband mentioned the enormous amounts of butter we always have in the fridge when he spoke at our wedding. Everyone laughed. They know me well. All spring I baked and baked and baked. J was rarely at home and I needed to do something with my time. I tasted and let J take the rest of the cake to sweeten his and the other PhD students’ afternoons. The buttermilk cake with chocolate glaze is still my favourite closely followed by the orange and nut cake which tastes so heavenly along a cup of tea.
And then of course there is the fragilité which I am thinking of baking next weekend when we’re meeting up for a game night with friends. Meringue, coffee, buttery softness. I like.
I am hungry. Can you tell? I didn’t have lunch at work today because I was busy making sure that I can spend the next three days away from work learning (for the third time this fall) a little more about journalism without having to check my phone and emails all the time. Fingers crossed I won’t have to worry about it. I’ll bake a cake if I don’t…