Almond tarragon cookies

Almond tarragon cookies

Almond tarragon cookies

It’s been such a strange week, with Malcolm starting middle school and summer coming to a close and me sort of starting a new job. I’ll tell you what I keep thinking about, the image that keeps playing over and over in my head. One evening we went down to the river. The sun was beautiful as it set in the blue-shadowed clouds, the trees were beautiful as they settled into fall. Isaac danced around collecting conkers with David, who could reach into the branches. Later Isaac would bring the conkers home and leave them on a table with a sign that read “choos yore chestnut.” He labeled them small, medeum, and large. I’d been asking Malcolm all day long about school. I get little snatches of information, but I really have no idea how he feels about it all. I was trying not to hound him, but you could tell he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Well, he went into the water, and he went way out to the middle of the river, all by himself, and he stood battling the never-ending current. It came gently but relentlessly towards him, and he splashed against it, in a world by himself, in his element, thinking.

Almond tarragon cookies

Almond tarragon cookies

Tarragon in something sweet! In cookies! Light lacy almond cookies! I’ll admit I was a little scared to try this, because I’ve always thought of tarragon as a savory flavor. But I’ve also always thought that the lemony anisey taste would be nice in a sweet setting. So I only added this to half the cookies. They turned out absolutely delicious, with a light, haunting addictive flavor.

Here’s Sister Rosetta Tharpe with Down by the Riverside.

Continue reading

About these ads

Cherry, white peach, chocolate and frangipane tart

Cherry peach chocolate almond tart

Cherry peach chocolate almond tart

Last night Clio and I went for a walk after dinner, as we almost always do. It wasn’t even close to 8 o’clock yet, but it was getting dark. There was a chill in the air, but we could feel the warmth radiate from the wall of rocks, which had soaked in sunshine all day. Earlier in the day, we’d seen that someone had stuck a piece of tassly grass into the trunk of a tree. It looked like a little bouquet, or a little spray of fireworks. However, at dusk, it seemingly took it’s true form.

IMG_4536

The spirit of the end of summer. He’s laughing at us from behind a tree, full of mischief, but a little sad, too, maybe even slightly scared. He seems substantial, but if you run your hands through his tresses, as we did today in the bright afternoon light, he falls to nothing. Through his winking eyes and gaping mouth, you can see the beautiful darkening light along our towpath, and watch the leaves fall like bright shadows.

Cherry, white peach, chocolate, and almond tart

Cherry, white peach, chocolate, and almond tart

This tart contained many of my favorite flavors. It was fun to make, and I realized I hadn’t made anything slightly complicated in some time. It’s not complicated as in difficult, but it does have a few steps, a few layers. The first is a sweetish buttery crust. But you don’t roll it out, you just press it down with your hands, so it’s not that hard. The second layer is bittersweet chocolate. I melted the chocolate chips over a low heat till they were just soft, and then spread them into a thin layer with the back of my spoon. The third layer is a frangipane, but on the firm side, not too custardy. And finally, of course, the fruit! I like the rich, tangy, sweet but not too sweet quality of this tart, and ate if for breakfast and before bed for days. We also ate it with whipped cream and vanilla ice cream, and I recommend these presentations as well.

Here’s The Ethiopians with Feel the Spirit. Love this one.

Continue reading

Almond cake with blueberry & chocolate filling

Almond cake with blueberry and chocolate filling

Almond cake with blueberry and chocolate filling

We went to look for eagle feathers though we knew we wouldn’t find any. As with most things in life, it was more about the journey–the walk on the towpath, over the old train bridge, down the hill through the tall ferns and prickly vines, up to the tower where the eagle had lived. Maybe we’d go farther past it, all the way to the river, maybe we’d see the eagles flying over the water, looking for fish. We didn’t see the eagles, we didn’t find any feathers, the prickly vines scratched our ankles, but it was a wonderful walk. The wild ferns and flowers and vines are taller than me down by the eagle’s tower, and it’s a strange bright green world with narrow paths, some that lead into the woods, some that lead to the river, and some that lead up the hill back to the path. Under the staring blue sky, with small white clouds and grasshoppers flicking across our path, this felt like summer. Is it the dog days? Because we’re living like dogs, sun dogs, dogs of summer, here at The Ordinary, with no plans. We snooze in the warm sun, and wake to eat or run to the river for a swim, or chase wildly through tangled ferny paths. Clio is the leader of our pack, she shows us how it’s done, and the boys are attentive pupils. We’re trying to slow down the days, with our lazy ways, but they’re flying by anyway. Evening falls earlier, and there’s almost a chill in the air in the mornings. So we’ll follow Clio into the sunshine, and soak it up, we’ll store it inside of us against the cold days ahead.

IMG_4205

IMG_4207

You know what I’ve been making a lot this summer? Flat wide cakes with fillings inside. Almost like a gateau basque. This one had blueberries and chocolate chips. (They almost always have chocolate) I’ve made some with ground almonds or almonds and pistachios, and I’ve filled them with jam or other kinds of fruit. Sometimes they’re soft, sometimes they’re crispy like big cookies. This one was quite soft inside, and a little crispy on top. It was very juicy, you can’t turn it out of the pan or anything, because it will fall apart. David said it’s like blueberry fudge. I’ll tell you about the other cakes another time.

Here’s Summertime by Sam Cooke.

Continue reading

Toasted almond shortbread cake

Toasted almond shortbread cake

Toasted almond shortbread cake

There’s a crow in my backyard making the strangest noises: throaty, urgent, with just an edge of rudeness. They’ve been all around my house all day, these crows, calling to each other, calling to me, trying to tell me something. It’s not just what they’re saying, either, it’s the way they fly as well, it feels studied, with a pattern and a purpose. It’s quite dramatic and beautiful. And it’s all around my house, circling my world. Of course, once I ventured outside of my house, beyond my block, I realize that they’re all over town behaving strangely, these crows. It’s spring, they’re in a tizzy. But as long as I’m sitting in my own home, searching for meaning everywhere, it feels as thought they’re speaking just to me. I passed a man on the way to school today who was talking to some friends in a truck idling in front of his house. He said that every morning, when he steps onto his porch, he sees the vulture who is nesting in the abandoned house next door, and the vulture is staring down at him, watching his every move. It doesn’t bode well for his day, he fears. I’ve been studying the calls and flight patterns of birds, lately, because I’m applying for an exciting new job. I want to be an augur. It’s a stressful job, I know, with a lot of responsibility, but I feel up for the task. My duties, as an augur, will involve studying the flight paths of birds, listening to how they sing or call, identifying patterns and directions, determining the kind of bird, and whether it flies in a group or alone. If a flock of birds takes into the air all at once, in a confusion of movement, in certain waves, with small sure speed, like an explosion of fireworks, I will know what this means. If a lone bird soars far above the clouds in great lazy circles, I will understand what that bird is telling me, because I will take the auspices. I will decide what is auspicious. Of course the job of an augur is not to determine the future, but to decide if a path already begun upon is the right path to take, if a plan of action is pleasing to the gods. And the gods show us this on the wings of birds, the delicate, powerful, inexplicable, beautiful wings of birds. And this is where I think I would shine as an augur. Because I always think birds are beautiful, I love all of their calls and songs, I love the birds with dusky feathers as well as those with jewel-like plumage. I admire vultures and revere crows, practically anything a bird can do seems like a happy portent to me, except maybe flying into a window. So if you want some good news, you want to feel hopeful about a project you’ve started or a journey you’re taking, come to me. I will read your auspices, I will watch the birds busy in you back yard, feeding in your garden or floating dreamily high above your house, and I will find encouraging signs there.

Toasted almond shortbread cake

Toasted almond shortbread cake

This cake was inspired by memories of a good humor toasted almond bar. It has a simple, shortbread like base, with chocolate chips, of course! And it’s topped with a crunchy almond crumb.

Here’s Flying Birds by the RZA

Continue reading

Pecan & coconut brownies

Coconut pecan brownies

Coconut pecan brownies

There’s an ad I’ve been seeing a lot lately, when I try to watch my shows on the computer. It promises an “all new more everything plan,” and it’s only a slight exaggeration to say that it has me teetering on the thin line between amusement and despair. First of all, do we really need to reinforce the image of Americans as inarticulate greedy toddlers? MORE MORE MORE NEW NEW NEW!! No, we don’t, we truly don’t. Second of all, thank you once again, marketing-Americans for reducing words to a state of flaccid meaninglessness. It’s like a drug, it started with fairly mild words, “wholesome” or “goodness,” words that most actual people don’t actually use very often and that never had that much vitality. But our tolerance for those words grew to the point that we don’t even notice them anymore, it’s like we didn’t even hear them. So it spread to words that once had some power and complexity, “awesome,” “extreme,” even “power” itself. And now those have about as much flavor as gum that’s been chewed up, spit out, and stuck to the bottom of somebody’s shoe for a few weeks. So it’s on to the really big words. What’s bigger than everything? And this is the idea that keeps going around and around in my head. Everything? Really? More everything? More money, more sunshine, more inspiration, more creativity, more good-will, more intelligence, more patience, more ice cream cones, more cool non-leather shoes, more homes for stray dogs, more empathy for everyone in the world? And then, the next logical question…more everything? Are you sure? More poverty, more rain, more earthquakes, more misunderstanding, more tetanus shots, more rotten raspberries in a bowl that looked so perfect, more war, more hatred, more chaos, more ignorance, more cruelty? More of all of that? And more nothing? Because that’s part of everything, too, isn’t it? Anything, something, nothing, it’s all part of everything. Does this all-new plan offer a glimpse into the abyss? Because I’m not sure I’m ready for that. I’m not ready for all being and nothingness. So be careful what you sign up for, read the fine print, and ask yourself if you’re prepared to take on the extreme awesome power of the all new everything plan.

Coconut pecan brownies

Coconut pecan brownies

Speaking of everything, these wholesomely delicious brownies have it all! They’re soft and flavorful with a crispy top. They have a nice texture because of the coconut and pecans, which are both ground up so that they’re surprising but recognizable.

Here’s The Ramones with I Wanted Everything.

Continue reading

Salty caramel almond, hazelnut, chocolate chip blondies

Salty caramel chocolate chip bars

Salty caramel chocolate chip bars

We’re experimenting with a “screen-free Sunday.” No TV, no computer, no video games. I’d imagined it would be something like the scene from the Simpsons: all the children of Springfield stop watching television and they all venture outside into the fresh air and sunshine to the tune of Beethoven’s pastoral symphony. It hasn’t been like that. I thought the boys would actually be excited about this plan, because they like camping and they like when the power goes out. They like roughing it. They have so much creativity and imagination it’s bursting out of them, they don’t need TV! But they like TV, and we find them sneakily watching cartoons or claiming that Malcolm’s nook doesn’t count as a screen. So by noon on a Sunday you’ll find me shouting at them that their brains are going to rot, or perhaps have already rotted. That they have INNER RESOURCES, dammit, and they need to use them. I tell them that when I was little we almost never watched TV, we didn’t even want to and we had so much fun, we had so many adventures and created whole worlds. And then Malcolm says, “Yeah, but you had a brother who liked to go outside,” and complaints of Isaac’s proclivity for sitting in his pajamas besides a warm radiator resurface. But I think it’s going to be good for all of us in the long run. One Sunday the boys were slouching about listlessly and moodily one moment, staring at the dark TV, and when I looked back over at them they were playing chess. And the next moment they were playing some complicated game they’d invented involving chess pieces and pieces from some entirely different game. I’m at work all day most Sundays, and when I’ve come home the last few weeks, the house has been an extremely messy testament to the wildness of their imaginations, once let loose from the dulling shackles of the TV. Giant blanket forts, creatures cut out of paper, a crown–with a strap on it–fashioned for poor long-suffering Clio. Drawings that tell stories. Odd science experiments. Crazy and wonderful robots and whole upside-down cities made out of legos. It’s strange to think about how much of our time the computer and television eat away at (and we don’t even get any reception on our television!) A lamentable waste of our precious swiftly-pasing moments. Yesterday Malcolm said he couldn’t relax without watching television, and that made me sad. He should be able to just do nothing. He should be able to just stare into space and think his thoughts. He should be able to go for long car rides or sit around waiting for something to start, and follow his mind wherever it takes him. Yesterday Malcolm also told me that one of these screen-free Sundays will be a rainy day, it will be pouring down rain outside, and he and his brother will have so much energy in them that they’ll explode. Well, we’ll just re-channel it! Think of all of the explosions of energy and creativity throughout history that turned into music and paintings and novels and films! Think how sorry we’d be if instead of making music, paintings, novels, and films, the creator had been sitting around watching Star Wars cartoons. Maybe we’ll have to add a few more screen-free days!

Salty caramel chocolate chip bars

Salty caramel chocolate chip bars

This is something between a cake and bar cookies. It’s made with ground almonds and hazelnuts and very little flour. It’s dense and a little chewy and crunchy on top. It has browned butter inside, brown sugar on top, and a sprinkling of coarse salt, so it’s got a rich, caramel-y flavor. Delicious with tea, coffee or red wine.

Here’s Elvis Perkins with Doomsday. I’m currently obsessed with this beautiful-melancholy-cheerful song.
Continue reading

Malcolm’s strawberry surprise cookies

Chocolate covered strawberry cookies

Chocolate covered strawberry cookies

I like most flavors. I love some more than others, obviously, but there aren’t many that I actively dislike. I suppose this is why I’ve always been impatient with picky eaters. I just don’t understand not liking food! And then along came Isaac. He’s hard to feed. I get angry with him sometimes, because he seems to decide he doesn’t like something before he’s even tasted it! He seems to not like something just because I made it! It hurts my feelings! I made something the other day and he liked it at first, but after a few bites he put it down. “How is that possible!?!?” I wanted to yell. But he said, “I like the first flavor, and the middle flavor, but the last flavor is something I don’t like.” And then it struck me that we taste things differently. I suppose this is obvious and I should have known it all along, but I hadn’t really thought about it before. For me, tasting something is an immediate experience, for Isaac it’s a journey. All of those wine labels that mention top notes and bottom notes, which leave me feeling a little perplexed? Isaac would get that, he’d know what they mean. He’s got a complicated taster. I used to joke with David, when we first met, that he was more of a discerning eater because he hadn’t deadened his taste buds by burning them on hot coffee and tea as often as I had, but in truth, I think he’s just got a more complicated taster, and he passed it on to our boys. It’s become a cliché to say that children like bland foods, and to give them plain pasta and plain potatoes and bread, but I don’t think this is true at all. Most of the foods Isaac likes are bursting with flavor: goat cheese and olives and capers. I suppose it’s a question of letting them try everything and decide for themselves what they like, and recognizing that it’s okay if they like different things. I’d like to be able to taste the way Isaac does, to think about the first and middle and the last of it. I’m going to give it a try, to really think about all of the flavors. And this understanding applies to all things. I’ve long thought that one person’s courage is another person’s lack of imagination. It’s not necessarily brave to face fears that you don’t feel or dangers that you’re not aware of because they hadn’t occurred to you. We’re less likely to be impatient with somebody or call them a coward if we understand that they might just have a more complicated and active imagination. We’ve just got to learn to slow down and take that walk with them, and be sure to notice every part of the journey.

Chocolate covered strawberry cookies

Chocolate covered strawberry cookies

Malcolm invented these cookies, and when he was describing them and I wasn’t quite understanding it, he said, “I’ve got a very complicated mind.” He does, and I’m glad of it. And these cookies were delicious. They’re quite large, like little cakes really, and this recipe makes only twelve of them. They’re like giant thumb print cookies, with fresh strawberries hidden under a layer of dark chocolate. They were delicious! We all decided that if we made them again we’d add a little jam or nutella under the strawberry, so the whole thing doesn’t slide out when you bite into it. I melted chocolate chips on top of the cookies and then spread that across them, but you could also melt chocolate separately and spread that over, if that seems easier to you.

Here’s Sugar Never Tasted So Good by the White Stripes
Continue reading

Raspberry chocolate biscotti ice cream

Raspberry chocolate biscotti ice cream

Raspberry chocolate biscotti ice cream

“Would you rather have one weakness nobody could detect, or no weaknesses at all?”

“No weaknesses at all.”

“No, would you rather have one weakness nobody could detect or no weaknesses at all?”

“Well I just don’t see why anybody would want a weakness if they could choose to have no weaknesses.”

“If you have a weakness and you wish to get rid of it, then you’re not yourself any more! Your weakness is part of who you are!”

These are the wise words of our Isaac, eight years old. At the beginning of the year when getting-to-know-you exercises abound, Isaac brought home a self-portrait with bright blue eyes, and on the bottom he wrote that his blue eyes and his heart murmur make him special. He’s got a heart murmur he won’t grow out of, and when they first diagnosed it, he thought it might be a defect, but now he’s embraced it as something that makes him different, something to be proud of. After all, there’s nobody on earth with a heart like Isaac’s! I love to think about Isaac thinking about these things. I love to think about him thinking about what makes a person a person, and thinking with such grounded generosity about the weakness that everybody on earth must inevitably have. Of course a weakness is a vulnerability, which is why we keep our weaknesses as secret as we can, and we hope that no one will detect it. Unless we love somebody, and then we open our hearts to them, and trust them with the knowledge of all or our weaknesses and foibles; we share our good and our bad. This takes great courage, but it turns weakness into strength, and Isaac does this better than anyone. He shares his remarkable thoughts, his uncommon contemplations, and his unguarded love with a warmth and wisdom that make him as strong as anyone I know.

Raspberry chocolate biscotti ice cream

Raspberry chocolate biscotti ice cream

I have a terrible weakness for ice cream! We’ve been snowed in so many days that I’ve been baking through bag after bag of flour. On one day I made croissants and biscotti, both from Craig Claiborne’s New York Times Cookbook. We changed the biscotti recipe slightly, because Malcolm wanted to add almonds and chocolate. So we added some almond extract, too, and a pinch of cinnamon. They turned out nice! In order to coat one side of them with chocolate I devised the ingenious method of placing chocolate chips along one side when they’re returned to the oven for the final ten minute drying-out period, and then spreading the chocolate once it softened. I think I might have baked them slightly too long, because they were extra crumbly when I tried to slice them, but we put those crumbs to good use! We took any of the half-pieces and mangled pieces and tiny pieces, and we ground them up even further in a food processor with some bittersweet chocolate chips, and we added them to raspberry ice cream. (Wintertime raspberry ice cream, with framboise and raspberry jam rather than fresh raspberries). This turned out deeeeeeelicious!

Here’s The Weakest Part by Yo La Tengo.

Continue reading

Oatmeal chocolate chip pecan praline cookies

Oatmeal chocolate chip pecan praline cookies

Oatmeal chocolate chip pecan praline cookies

Where I’m from, the kids used to run around the neighborhood like wild things. We’d chart the in-between places, behind garages alongside hedges, in parking lots and alleys. We played tag and hide and seek, we ran around with bows and arrows made out of sticks and string, and we never crossed the street. We played stickball and climbed trees and spied: we had secret hand signals and elaborate stories about the goings on of the neighborhood. At night we dared each other to run down to the next corner and touch the mailbox. It was a small town and when we were older we’d walk the streets endlessly, night and day, looking for anyone we knew. When somebody learned to drive we’d all pile in the car and drive around the streets slowly, looking for anyone we knew or we’d drive right out of town and feel like we were free, like we were flying. We’d go to parties and drink sweet sickening drinks and dance to the Beastie Boys and the Violent Femmes. In the summer we’d drive to the shore and sneak over tall walls onto private beaches, and swim in the ocean at night. It was all remarkably uneventful, though it felt full of meaning and drama at the time.

I like songs about home, about where people are from and when they’re from. Like Mos Def’s Habitat.

    When I think of home, my remembrance of my beginning
    Laundromat helping ma dukes fold the bed linen
    Chillin in front my building with my brother and them
    Spending nights in Bushwick with my cousins and them
    Wise town and Beat Street, federal relief
    Slowly melting in the morning grits we used to eat
    Sticking to your teeth and teeth is hard to keep
    With every flavor Now & Later only a dime apiece
    Old timers on the bench playing cards and thangs
    Telling tales about they used to be involved in things
    Start to drinking, talking loud, cussing up and showing out
    On the phone, call the cops, pick’em up, move’em out
    And it’s all too common to start wildin
    I’m a pirate on an island seeking treasure known as silence
    And it’s hard to find

Or Dungeon Family’s White Gutz

    Sitting on 400 wides that’s what they love
    Incense swingin from the mirror that’s what they love
    Six course licked with the glaze that’s what they love
    drive with the dealership tag that’s what they love
    hairbone strayed on my shoulder that’s what they love
    the smell of new leather in the cold that’s what they love
    strawhat V-neck t’s that what they love
    moonroof open blowing smoke that’s what they love
    Romeo cologne every week that’s what they love
    that’s what they love

Or K’naan’s My Old Home

    My old home smelled of good birth
    Boiled red beans, kernel oil and hand me down poetry
    It’s brick white-washed walls widowed by first paint
    The tin roof top humming songs of promise while time is
    Locked into demonic rhythm with the leaves
    The trees had to win
    Hugging them, loving them a torturous love
    Buggin’ when
    It was over and done
    The round cemented pot kept the rain drops cool
    Neighbors and dwellers spatter in the pool
    Kids playin football with his hand and sock
    We had what we got, and it wasn’t a lot

So the subject of today’s Sunday Interactive Playlist is Where I’m From. It’s a song about the place and time that made you. The song doesn’t have to be about where you’re from, or even where the singer is from, just a song about somebody’s home.

Oatmeal chocolate chip pecan praline cookies

Oatmeal chocolate chip pecan praline cookies

Two recipes in a row with pecan praline in them? Yes, indeed. I had some leftover, and I thought it would be good with chocolate chips. So I actually made even more, because it’s so completely easy to make. And then I combined it with oats and put it in cookies. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies are our natural anti-depressant, here at The Ordinary, and it’s been a long, cold winter!

Here’s a link to your interactive playlist. Add what you like! Or make a suggestion in the comments and I’ll add it through the week.

Continue reading

Cherry chocolate tart with amaretti-meringue topping

Cherry chocolate tart with amaretti meringue topping

Cherry chocolate tart with amaretti meringue topping

Last night we went out for Indian food and we brought our restaurant-drawing book. Malcolm set us all the task of drawing clowns, so we did.

clowns

The restaurant was glowing, the food was good, the boys were happy–we all were! And all night long I had the strangest dreams. I dreamt that David and I went to the bank, and there was such a long line that everybody waiting got a chair to sit in. David went to get some food, and then the bank teller called my number, 76, like I was in a deli line. I said, “Oh, but it’s not my turn next!” And everybody explained to me that I’d won a special opportunity to partake in “Community Supported Banking.” Everybody waiting with me, surrounding me in their chairs, would be given a special rate (for what? I don’t know!) as long as we all agreed to be responsible for each other’s financial situation from that moment forward. I woke up at that point and I thought about how I’d be anxious to be responsible for other people’s financial situation because they might be dishonest or irresponsible, and then I felt bad for having such a dim view of human nature. When I fell asleep again I dreamed that we were at the ocean and Malcolm jumped in the waves even though it was winter time and icy cold. We laughed and looked around for a towel, and then a wave the size of the ocean came down upon us, and I couldn’t find Isaac and Malcolm was far away and I could see David but I couldn’t reach him. And then David woke me up and told me I’d been crying. I’ll spare you the account of my other dreams of the night, but they were many, and they were strange. We’ve determined that we often have strange dreams when we eat Indian food, I wonder if it’s true, or if it’s just a self-fulfilling superstitious belief. Winsor McCay believed that Welsh Rarebit could give you strange dreams. In 1904 he began drawing a cartoon in which each day a person would eat Welsh Rarebit and then have bizarre, sometimes frightening dreams.

dreams-of-the-rarebit-fiend

The stories became so popular that Edwin Porter made a beautiful film version in 1906.

I’ve been thinking about Winsor McCay a lot recently, because each morning when I finally shake off my dreams and clear my eyes, I see long icicles hanging from the wires outside our window, and I know that our world is covered in frost and snow and it has been for weeks and it probably will be for weeks. I wonder if instead of waking up, I’m still dreaming, and I’m in Slumberland with Little Nemo, exploring Jack Frost’s palace.

Slumberland

Slumberland

I was busy helping Malcolm plan a trip to Planet Mercury yesterday, and I never got around to posting a Sunday Interactive Playlist, so this week we’ll do a Monday Interactive Playlist, and the subject is sleep. Songs about sleeping, songs about not sleeping, songs that make you sleepy.

Cherry chocolate tart with amaretti-meringue topping

Cherry chocolate tart with amaretti-meringue topping

This tart is deeeeeeelicious, if I do say so myself and I do. It’s got a rich dense bottom layer, a juicy middle layer of cherry jam and bittersweet chocolate chips, and a top layer of amaretti meringue. What’s amaretti meringue, you ask? Well, it’s a meringue, and I hoped it would turn out like amaretti cookies, and it did! I’m so pleased! I’m not usually very good at making meringue, but this one turned out crisp and light, just as I hoped it would. I think if the weather was more humid we might have some problems with mushiness, but at the moment everything is wintery dry, and finally we’ve found a reason to be glad of that!

Here’s your link to the collaborative playlist of SLEEPY SONGS. Perfect accompaniment to my hibernation!

Continue reading