Meyer Lemon Pound Cake

Winter, in classic curmudgeonly style, felt we were becoming too comfortable, too...almost-warm for its liking. After about two weeks of normal weather, the mercury is falling. Again.

When temperatures plummet into the single digits (and below!), I reignite a kinship with "The Lady of Shalott." She's been a kindred spirit since I first read Tennyson's poem at the ripe old age of 12. As the deceivingly-sunny raw afternoon trudges into another icy night, I feel semi ethereal. I have no desire to do anything whatsoever. Time drips by, freezes in mid-air, and five hours have suddenly passed while my head was buried in a book. The rest of the world might as well be light years away - it's just me, and the cold, and this capricious dance with the hours. To be perfectly honest, a good part of me relishes the gelid solitude (as long as I know it's not going to last too, too long).

Meyer Lemon Bundt Cake

Country living comes with roses and barbs - it's quiet, atmospheric, and usually includes daily visits from various boreal creatures (some more welcome than others). For the past month or so I've shared my shower with an tiny spider named Miranda...assuming she's a "she." The Tempest is my favourite Shakespearean play and, like Miranda, the wee spider appears oblivious to the evils of the world. She wove an intricate home in the topmost corner of my shower stall (it slants at the end below the staircase). Miranda and I are very mindful of each other's personal space - I'm careful about errant shampoo splashes whilst she is mindful about not making any sudden movements. Strange as it may sound, there's an intangible repose found in her presence. Miranda is always there - no matter how hectic and frazzled my day has been, her drama-free nonchalance puts things back into proper perspective. Hopefully she will weave around throughout the winter - based on the chaotic weather we've had so far, it's going to be a long one.

Speaking of unexpected lovely things amid chaos - last week Laura, of the exquisite food blog Tutti Dolci, sent me three Meyer lemons from her very own tree! I was literally over the moon! It's been a manic jumble of snow, thunder, ice...and snow again. Lemon love from sunny California was just what I needed. Thank you, thank you, Laura!! xo

Whole Lemon Ginger Bars

"Sometimes, when light strikes at odd angles
and pulls you back into childhood

and you are passing a crumbling mansion
completely hidden behind old windows

or an empty convent garden guarded by hemlocks 
and giant firs standing hip to hip,

you know again that behind that wall,
under the uncut hair of willows

something secret is going on,
so marvelous and dangerous

that if you crawled through and saw,
you would die, or be happy forever." 

~ Sometimes, When the Light by Lisel Mueller 

Lemons will always be sultry mid-summer light shining through sheer curtains onto a dark wood floor - a chiming Grandfather's clock, lush ferns, and slow sunsets. My icy fingertips are already nostalgic for warmer days. Thank goodness for lemons, butter, and the throat-tingling heat of fresh ginger.

Rosemary Citrus Cake with Mascarpone-Honey Frosting

"I want to say something so embarrassing about September that even the leaves start blushing and turning red."

~ Jarod Kintz

Autumn has arrived and I've officially reached mid 30-hood. I'm slowing coming to terms with the fact that it's time to let go of the bond I had have with summer (and my twenties). Today, for instance, I'm wearing a nubby oatmeal-coloured, oversized sweater and a pair of grey woolen socks - thick socks; socks that will never slip comfortably into my favourite ballet flats. I'm starting to lengthen my nightly showers, too - trying to postpone that frigid moment when the water turns off and the warmth of the towel is still a few agonizing seconds away. 

I'm moodier during the autumnal months, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. There's a certain, almost raw, clarity of thought that comes from sadness. Writing, if I can escape my inhibitions, is much easier when I'm pensive. And baking becomes a form of creative (edible) expression - at least until I'm brave enough to share my poetry, or finally take up that long pipe dream, acting. Maybe next spring...

Lemon Tart with Lemon-Vanilla Sablé Crust

"I wanted to stay as I was
still as the world is never still,
not in midsummer but the moment before
the first flower forms, the moment
nothing is as yet past-"

~ Louise Glück, opening lines to "The Doorway," in The Wild Iris

Part of me still thinks it's April. That splintered half is always slightly behind - yet always happy, and hopeful. The here-and-now me knows it's June 28th. Very soon I'll hear the *woosh* of hot air balloons overhead and my other, other half - the one who's always a grey spot on a stormy, yellow field - will give me a subtle nod from up ahead, signaling that this is the half-way point of something I don't want to come to an end. (Sometimes it's better to ignore each other.)

Summer. The word itself is light golden, and billowy like a thin sail. Oh, how I love summer. If only I could capture it in a butterfly net and hold it captive for two extra months.

Lemon Shortbread

Sorry for the brief hiatus. As you can see my blog underwent a bit of a facelift. Isn't she lovely! My go-to designer is Ana from Blog Milk Shop. (She did my previous layout too!) Simple is beautiful. If your site is ever in need of something new, fresh, and clean - look no further than Ana. She's super-sweet and extremely patient. (I must have asked a gazillion questions. Maybe more.) ♥

Lemon Cornmeal Cake with Candied Lemons

Currently: a slice of this darling cake (the very last!), lush trees,  lilac bushes blowing in a looming spring storm, and a thick-rimmed glass of iced coffee. I absolutely relish the month of May!

Rain makes its own night, long mornings with the lamp left
on.
Lean bean grass sticks to the floor near your shoes,
last summer’s pollen rises from damp metal screens.

This is order, this clutter that fills clearings between us,
clothes clinging to chairs, your shoes in a muddy grip.

The hard rain smells like it comes from the earth.
the human light in our windows, the orange stillness
of rooms seen from outside. The place we fall to alone,
falling to sleep. Surrounded by a forest’s green assurance,
the iron gauze of sky and sea,
while night, the rain, pulls itself down through the trees.


                            ~ Anne Michaels, in The Weight of Oranges

Meyer Lemon Buttermilk Bars

My camera and I are in the middle of a dispute; I'm calling the board colour in these photos - Caribbean blue - my fickle camera insists it's toothpaste green. Depending on what device you're on, I'm sure it is a retina-awakening mixture of both. I have been waiting several months to start using this board, which I felt was too bright for winter. So, indecisive hues or not - I decided it was time to go Caribbean.

In case you were wondering, the colour on the paint tube said "turquoise." We're both wrong (and heavy on the snark).

Triple Lemon Bundtlette Cakes

"Here I purchase your silence.
I agree: I give you mine
with one provision: that we do not understand each other."
~ Pablo Neruda, from "I want to know..." in The Sea and the Bells

February is an awkward, clumsy sort of month- at least for me. My wobbly, pale, winter legs want to rush onward, toward March- with its promise of green-scented air, yet my wistful mind longs to regress to December, when everything was cosy, and snow covered, and certain. With February, I'm never quite sure what to expect; such a tease, this fickle month.

Lemons are, and always will be, my happy place. When my thoughts become lost in a haze of unpredictable, ever-changing weather, and the alarmingly swift passing of time, lemons offer comfort and perspective.

Lemon Meringue Pie Bars

As I'm writing this post, my tooth (the very one which cracked on an errant popcorn kernel last year) is throbbing with a ferocious determination- as though it's only wish is to make every bone on the left side of my face suffer along with it (so spiteful, these chewing contraptions!). I used to think that a migraine was the worst form of torment a body could inflict upon itself, now I'm convinced that tooth pain should bear that cantankerous crown.

Adding insult to injury- it was my Beloved lemon who procured this intolerable pain- although I'd like to look at it from an uncharacteristically optimistic point of view and think that it was lemon's way of telling me the dentist didn't properly patch things up last time. A bit of tough love, lemon, but thank you all the same.

Lemon Muffins

A tiny post for a sweet & easy recipe.

Tweets aside, *ahem* I usually try to retain a journalistic-like neutrality when it comes to certain issues. So please, just this once allow me to speak freely by saying how incredibly proud I am of our President! The election was long and brutal (on both sides). It's over. I'm over the moon, I'm walking on air, I'm just...I can breathe again.

Maybe now we can all just take a breath, dunk a few cookies into a shared glass of cold milk, and bring our level of arguing back down to casual library mode. ♥

Lemon & Thyme, Olive Oil Cookies

Last summer's sultry, tropical heat unearthed a lost respect for the lazy ease of flip-flops, as well as a Pandora's box of otherworldly insects.  I think it was either July or early August that I had an uninvited, eight-legged visitor in my late night shower. Even though I have an intense fear of them, I try to respect spiders. But the creature clinging to my shower curtain (the very curtain I'd just drawn back with my hand!), was no ordinary spider. It was the colour of creamy coffee and instead of having nice, evenly-spaced legs, the four front legs were spread above it's head, whilst the back legs stretched out below it's torso, leaving a creepy space in the center. Plus it was the size of a small gerbil (maybe). In a moment of sheer panic, I washed it down the thankfully-wide drain and proceeded to take the fastest shower in the history of showers (because I think we've all seen Arachnophobia!).

Apparently the incident left a mental scar because I recently had a nightmare about a pulsating nest growing in the cellar. And just like real life, Niles, my 20lb cat, was completely useless when it came to catching anything. After one of the dream spiders ran across his tail, all he did was clean one of his front paws, yawn, stretch, and then go back to sleep.

After the leggy nightmare, I needed something to calm down. And nothing calms me down quite like baking and cookie eating. Especially when my beloved lemons are involved.

Lemon Cupcakes with Lemon Buttercream Frosting

Last weekend I watched The Hunger Games. [Spoiler Alert] Yes, I cried during Rue's death, and my throat clenched up when Katniss thought, for a brief moment, that Peeta had died...and realized that her feelings for him were deeper than she knew. This movie hit every mark, spot on. (Pardon the pun.) If you've read the The Hunger Games, please don't be afraid to see the movie, I don't think you will be disappointed.

Lemon Doughnut Cookies

These are actually supposed to be "wreath" cookies, but I don't use that kind of language until after Thanksgiving.

I don't want to think of Thanksgiving either. Sorry.

Yes, it's still summer. Sometimes we just need to step outside and breath in August's brilliance.

Because she is brilliant. And she's tired of being viewed as back-to-school preparation month. (We had a little chat about it last night, after I had a bit too much Yellow Tail Shiraz.)

Lemon Bars with Pistachio-Graham Cracker Crust

Top 10 list of things I can't get enough of:
1. Time
2. Sleep
3. Jamie Bamber's smile
4. That feeling of "ahhh...," after completing stuff I'd been putting off for days.
5. Time
6. Good hair days
7. Peace of mind (rare for an overly analytical perfectionist)
8. Baking
9. Cool summer nights
10. Lemon...anything (of course)

Lemon Brownies

I am constantly looking for different ways to fuel my rather unhealthy lemon obsession, and, since I've already made an elephantine amount of lemon bars (don't worry, there will be more!), I decided to try something new...something kinda-sorta similar to a lemon bar but without the jelly-belly center.

Strawberry - Lemon Muffins

This time of year, with juicy fresh berries so readily available, I sometimes end up buying more than my refrigerator (and light-colored clothes), can handle. I have several non-berry recipes waiting in the wings, but for some reason, I felt an urgent need to share these muffins with you...as though the recipe would wither away as fast as it's scene-stealing, unassumingly sweet, not-enough-room-in-the-fridge-for-'em, strawberries.

Lemon Meringue Tartlets

Had I been born a lemon, I would aspire to be made into a luscious tart adorned with a crown of fluffy, toasted meringue. (And I'd advise my lemon boyfriend to avert his eyes when one of those saucy limes rolls by.)

Mini Lemon Layer Cake with Strawberry Buttercream

Dear Friday,

First of all, just let me tell you how beautiful you look in lilac and soft daffodil-yellow. (You should wear them longer, and more often.)

Since we have always been close, I thought I could come to you with a tiny request.

I managed to make a perfectly, symmetrical, layer cake. This is very rare, very rare, and I'm concerned about a hidden price.

Also, aside from the shifty-looking "freckle" on my arm, and a shady "unknown" number that keeps ringing my cell phone at 2am, it's been kind of smooth sailing lately. *knock on wood*

Because I tend to get a bit antsy when I don't have something huge to pick apart anxiously, I'm really hoping that this isn't a "calm before the storm" scenario.(If that were the case, I'd like to believe that we're tight, and you would give me some sort of a heads-up, yes?)

So I'm just going to ask that you please allow today to be amazing. No pre-weekend bombshells, please.

Thanks, Friday. ♥

~Valerie

P.S. If it's not too much to ask, could you please pass this along to your bff, Saturday? xo

Alice Medrich's Lemon Bars

Aside from making a killer Key lime pie, speaking with just about any accent, and completing the NY Times crossword puzzles with a pen, I have another random talent; Baaing like a sheep. Not a lazy, childish, meh-baa, I'm talking a spot-on, where-the-heck-did-that-come-from?, Baaaa. Please, try not to be too jealous.

I'm not sure how (or why) I ever made my first "baa," but when you're a natural at something, even bleating like a sheep, it's only a matter of time before it finds you. (Sadly, my understanding of proper comma usage remains aloof, and out of reach.)

Much to the amusement of friends, and the embarrassment of family members, I can turn heads and procure confused, uncertain glances from complete strangers in grocery stores, malls and restaurants. Most of the time, they can't quite locate the source of the noise and look around in vain for the elusive, petting zoo escapee. Good times...good times. ;-)