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One snowy and freezing day, in which outside temperatures hovered around 10° F, my apartment was filled with a clean lemony and early spring, floral smell of Meyer Lemon Muffins. These aren’t super sweet muffins mimicking cupcakes. They have an earthy flavor from wheat flour, flax seeds and chia seeds as the glaze sweetens the muffins with an extra lemony taste. As temperatures continue to rise and extremely fall (in some places below 0° F), the taste and smell of these Meyer Lemon Muffins reminds us of early spring gardens as we watch snowflakes dance outside our windows. Read more →
Autumn is supposed to be a depressing time of year, but today my feelings are different from a few seasons ago. I feel happy. Blessed. In the words of James Brown, “ I Feeeeeel Goooood.” This morning we woke up to a warm and crisp day. The boyfriend and I danced to Tina Turner, Jackie Wilson, Stevie Wonder and classic R&B hits from the past. Buttermilk Pancakes were served with walnuts and figs. Vanilla milk was swirled into French Press coffee. As our food slowly digest, we caught the last end of the second Wall Street movie on television. After a busy summer of my boyfriend’s debut on Broadway and me finally getting a job, we finally relaxed on this Saturday morning, the first day fall. Read more →
Bless his heart. Now that I’m working, my boyfriend is taking over a few household chores, including light grocery shopping. He mostly buys drinks, which are too heavy for me to carry home (In New York, grocery shopping is done in increments, a cab is hailed or the store has delivery service). Perhaps, I’m too controlling, but I don’t want him to shop for food until he’s been in the kitchen with me for a while. Read more →
As a child, the starting sound of a cake mixer being roared into action would lure me into the kitchen. My father gave me a spatula, and I would scrap the sides and the bottom of the bowl after each ingredient was added. Behind his back, I would lick the spatula and the spoon rest. The best taste was the creaming of the sugar and butter. The taste test would temporarily cease when the eggs were added. When the flour was added, the taste test would restart. After pouring the batter into the pan and placing it in the oven, my father would allow me to lick the bowl and the mixer’s beaters.
When I made this Buttermilk Pound Cake this past weekend, I recalled those taste tests as a child. Today, as an adult, there are no restrictions to the amount of cake batter I consume. Instead of scooping the batter with fingers or licking the spoon rest, a clean spoon is used each time I want a taste. I’m usually in a sugar-high state of mind by the time the cake goes into the oven. If the boyfriend caught me, he would remind me how unhealthy it is to eat cake batter because of the raw eggs. Some type of regulation is needed. I treat myself to the batter, because cakes are rarely made in this household of only two. Besides, when the cake was done and cooling on the rack, I went outside to run for 30 minutes, in freezing temperatures. Such sweet indulgences of childhood reminiscences are well deserved.
After a few years of warm winters, it was a treat to wake up to a winter wonderland. And, it’s a blessing to have a fully stocked refrigerator. We served our sweet breakfast with green tea and faux mimosas, orange juice made with wine instead of champagne. We just happened to have a cheap bottle of wine, because it was going to be used in the chicken stew for dinner later in the day. The boyfriend watched his church services via live-stream from the internet. When service was over, the sweets were ready.