Strawberry Rhubarb Rolls with Lime Glaze

April 23, 2014

strawberry rhubarb rolls with lime glaze / une gamine dans la cuisine


How swiftly the strained honey
of afternoon light
flows into darkness

and the closed bud shrugs off
its special mystery
in order to break into blossom:

as if what exits, exists
so that it can be lost
and become precious.

~ "In Passing" by Lisel Mueller

Today is a young, tart strawberry. It's not quite ripe enough to be an ample morning but I've been up since 5:34 am; it feels as though it ought to be noon, at least.

I haven't been able to slip into my springtime aura. Mornings are too crisp and my icy fingertips still curl too tightly around a cosy forest green electric blanket. For as much as my body craves the sheet-less languid nights of summer, I will miss the ritual nesting & burrowing that comes with frost tinged sunsets. There is something undeniably soothing about being able to immerse oneself into the safe confines of a heated blanket and soft flannel sheets. That rapturous warmth after so much cold...like the embrace of a long lost lover or a dryer-fluffed towel draped over chilly shoulders. Yes, dear forest green blanket, you will be missed on hot July nights.

This nascent strawberry morning finds & fills me with wistful thoughts, secret longings, a third cup of strong, creamy coffee, and two leftover rolls (gently heated in the microwave). Oh, to be in love in cruel April. xo

early morning Cinnamon Toffee Banana Bread

April 15, 2014

Cinnamon Toffee Banana Bread | une gamine dans la cuisine


"I love the abstract, delicate, profound, vague, voluptuously wordless sensation
of living ecstatically."

~ Anaïs Nin, from a letter to Henry Miller, in A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin and Henry Miller, 1932-1953

This banana bread is my love letter to you. The first loaf fell. Literally. I had everything arranged for a photo shoot; slices splayed out in pseudo-haphazard fashion, errant scatterings of flour, an odd number of eggs peeking around the corners of wrinkled napkins, and a wayward scoop of ground cinnamon...everything was perfectly imperfect. Obviously my straight-laced background board felt left out of the peppered chaos. After one sip of coffee and an accidental nudge on the table with my pointy elbow, the entire scene folded in on itself. I laughed, uncontrollably, amid cracked eggs, a mangled bread loaf, flour-coated jeans & a slimy floor. This, coupled with snow on a Sunday in mid-April, broke the dam that had been held together with celery twine and thread bare hopes of spring. Honestly, I could not stop laughing.

After sitting on the floor in a pile of flour and inhaling a few surviving slices with a cold cup of coffee, I cleaned up the drama and went about making another loaf. Because I know you will be smitten. xo  

Red Grape Tart with Rosemary Almond Cookie Crust

April 9, 2014

Red Grape Tart with Rosemary Almond Cookie Crust | une gamine dans la cuisine

"The clocks of flowers rise, it's April
and yellow and these seconds are an autopsy
of this word,
         suddenly."

~ Bob Hicok, from "So I know" 

Spring is cautious this year. I imagine a cellist who somehow feels estranged from her beloved instrument. When sunlight spills through my morning window, I feel her raising a tentative bow and bringing it to pulsating strings; but as I hold my breath there's a missed heartbeat - - an eleventh hour hesitation. Instead of creating music and violets, she sighs and softly shoves her tidings aside with a slippered foot. Tomorrow, perhaps...

I'm waiting, patiently, for strawberries. Unfortunately the season is too young and off its mark. Every berry-filled green carton I find at the grocery store is a disappointment. This was an unplanned grape tart.
 

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