Here is how the sunday after Valentine's day went. Wake up, make an enriched yeasted dough, let it rise, cut into long strips, and let it rise some more. Grind hazelnuts, melt chocolate, and make a chocolate hazelnut custard (do you see where I'm going with this?). Strain said custard five times over, realize it is nearly impossible to strain the hazelnut meal out of the custard for a smooth texture and yell because chocolate hazelnut donuts will no longer be happening today. After moping around for a few minutes, come to the conclusion that hazelnut milk is the missing key, think long and hard about where to buy hazelnut milk. Realize: nowhere. With a sigh of defeat for the day, get lovely boyfriend to make a second trip to the store in single digit temperature for more hazelnuts and lots of cheesecloth. Start the process to make hazelnut milk. Pour and drink bourbon. Daydream about the day recipes come out right the first time around.
Tagliatelle with Roasted Cauliflower
We managed to wade our way through the entire month of January without touching any kind of pork product. Why you ask, would we undertake such an endeavor? The simple answer is because I wanted to and by extension Phillip had to. The complicated answer has something to do with animal welfare, environmental sustainability, and the fact that pigs are just so god damn cute, but I won't bore you with a long winded explanation.
Then, on February 1st we promptly went to my neighborhood diner and ordered french toast, over easy eggs, homefries, and three sausage links. It was glorious. It was euphoric. But I felt awful. Not only about the poor pig that died in order for me to get my preservative laden breakfast sausage, but also for my obvious lack of willpower. It got me thinking. Though it might be unrealistic to say that I'll stop eating pork for good (just put a slice of prosciutto in front of me, I dare you, I will probably bite your hand off in my fervor to eat it), as long as it has helped me be more aware of the food choices I make on a daily basis, no-pork-January has done its job.
What I ate for breakfast for two weeks straight, aka The Smoked Trout Bagel
The most important meal of the day, so they say. Unfortunately breakfast and I, we have always had a tenuous relationship. Back in my school years, it never really made its way into my repertoire even at the behest of my mother. Some people just aren't morning types, you know? Between turning off the alarm and sleeping for another 45 minutes, rolling out of bed, brushing teeth, and putting on real clothes, how does a girl find time for breakfast? It was always a wonder how mom and dad could get up in the morning and fry up some eggs and buns (in Chinese families we eat buns, no toast to be found here) AND have time to eat them before heading out for the day.
Now that I am well into my working years and certainly not as young and sprightly as I used to be, breakfast has begrudgingly made its way into my everyday life. The challenge these days is to find variety in a meal where it is so easy to get stuck in the egg sandwich or yogurt and granola cycle of monotony.
Carrot Cake
Now is around the time I start getting really tired of winter. January and February are probably the two most mediocre months out of the year if you ask me. The holidays are over, discarded pine trees line the sidewalks—simply thrown away like yesterday's news, and it's always cold cold cold. Every year I toy with the idea of moving back to Texas, and as fleeting as those thoughts are, I do miss the 40 degree "winters" we had there.
April, on the other hand, is a month I like. April marks the beginning of a cascade of happy events. Game of Thrones comes back (!!!), wonderful items such as garlic scapes and squash blossoms hit the market, the sun will still be out when I leave work, and I can buy peonies without paying $15 a stem. But until then, I might as well make use of the ridiculous amounts of root and cruciferous vegetables that beg their way into my shopping cart. I've already made these beet burgers twice this month, I've made cauliflower pasta every single week for the past six weeks, and of course I couldn't go without making a carrot cake...or two...or three. I've been going absolutely cuckoo for old ass (some would say "vintage") bundt pans, and it would have been irresponsible of me to not test them all.