The river that runs in the valley makes the valley that holds it. This is the doorway; the valley of the river. - What wears away the hard stone, the high mountain? The wind. The dust on the wind. The rain. The rain on the wind. What wears the hardness of hate away? Breath, tears. - Courage, compassion, patience holding to their way: the path to the doorway. -Ursula K. de Guin, A Meditation I‘ve been reading quite a bit of Ursula K. de Guin
I posted a piece of this cardamom cake on Instagram a few weeks ago and had a lot of people asking for the recipe, so here it finally is! One of my biggest failures as a blogger is just getting a post up - I love the baking part, and photography also, but for some reason when I sit down to edit photos and type up recipes, I find myself constantly procrastinating and distracted. Duke Ellington once commented, ‘I don‘t need time. What I
Somehow we are already on the front steps of 2018. The door is open, and another January welcomes us in with a glorious smile, reassuring those waiting out in the cold that right inside, just through that open door, things will be better. The new year will bring hope, and change. So we resolve to evolve, and put our faith in the dropping of a ball, a countdown from ten, and then number one. Two weeks in, however, we realize it‘s still all t
A month ago I got to take a quick trip to New York City, and hang out at the FeedFeed studio. They had a cookie exchange (sponsored by Bob‘s Red Mill) and I brought a long some of my pan-banging chocolate chip cookies to share. I had a great time - there were a lot of other food bloggers there that I had wanted to meet forever and finally got to, and also met a lot of lovely bloggers that were new to me. Everyone brought cookies to exchange
So far, I‘ve spent most of January freezing. It‘s not that unusual for me to be constantly cold, but here in Minnesota we‘ve had a long string of below zero days, which means I‘m wearing several pairs of socks and shivering under blankets. I‘ve done quite a bit of baking this month, and hope to have more recipes for you soon. In the meantime, here‘s a list of things I‘ve been enjoying. Elizabeth by Sarah
‘I‘m all over the place, up and down, scattered, withdrawing, trying to find some elusive sense of serenity.‘ ‘The world can‘t give that serenity. The world can‘t give us peace. We can only find it in our hearts.‘ ‘I hate that.‘ ‘I know. But the good news is that by the same token, the world can‘t take it away.‘ Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird I come to you with a recipe for turnov
I was recently on Twin Cities Live and made the chocolate bars pictured. They are based on a recipe from my cookbook: chocolate brownie base, buttercream filling, then topped off with chocolate ganache. Indulgent, but delicious. I made them for Valentine‘s day with edible rose petals, which made them pretty and terribly precious, but if you‘re not into that sort of thing, plain tops will work just fine. You can watch the video of me m
Pare down to the essence, but don‘t remove the poetry.‘ - Leonard Koren I met Melissa Coleman (also known as The Faux Martha) so many years ago when she came to my home one cold winter day, with her husband Kevin and daughter Halle. We had a lovely breakfast together, and went from blogger friends‘ to real friends. A few years after our initial meeting she ended up moving to Minneapolis (into the famous Fauxhouse), and I‘v
***ENTER THE JK ADAMS GIVEAWAY BELOW*** It took me a long time to feel confident making pies. I never actually made one until my late twenties, as they had seemed so daunting and time consuming; so much work for something that had such a high percentage of not turning out right. My first attempt actually was incredible: I made a perfect apple pie. The crust was flaky and golden brown, the filling perfectly cooked, with apples soft but not mushy.
I spent the afternoon in the drawing-room of the flat. I read a little - there were some very serious American magazines, not like the ones Miss Marcy had. But most of the time, I just thought. And what I thought about most was luxury. I had never realized before that it is more than just having things; it makes the very air feel different. And I felt different, breathing that air: relaxed, lazy, still sad but with the edge taken off the sadness.
Rush hour, and the short order cook lobs breakfast sandwiches, silverfoil softballs, up and down the line. We stand until someone says, Yes? The next person behind breathes hungrily. The cashier‘s hands never stop. He shouts: Where‘s my double double? We help. We eliminate all verbs. The superfluous want, need, give they already know. Nothing‘s left but stay or go, and a few things like bread. No one can stay long, not even the