Top | Sugarspeak Baking
(post, Jenny Weber)
Tart cranberry juice. Bitter. The sort that makes your jaw clench and pucker. Mixed with a bit of Pellegrino. The sort that makes your lips smile. Yesterday friends gathered to cook together (the baking was done in advance to be the focus of the next cooking challenge). There were salads of cucumber, tomatoes, and feta; another of mixed greens, cabbage, avocado, red peppers, and topped with Goddess dressing. Nothing really part of the living I have been attempting to do for the past year, which is to live off of the produce I can only find at the Farmer's Market. But sometimes a gal needs a red pepper. Or sometimes a gal needs some tomatoes. And sometimes I have to listen to that gal or she'll rebel by overdosing on her homemade chocolate chip cookies (because eggs, butter, and milk can always be found at the Farmer's Market). All of the vibrant bits of green, yellow, red, and purple were satiated with slices and bits of onions and mushrooms sauteed in garlic and thyme and nestled with beaten eggs. Cooked and browned and flipped and served. Dessert was my banana coconut cake frosted with a rum banana frosting. Rum. Yum. All washed down with an organic pale ale. Beer now being my flavor of choice for pairing with all my sweets and savory. Understanding and noticing the spices and nuances I could never ever grasp with wine. My mind wanders and I think of how in exploring food with others, in exchanges, and not only in the kitchen I am slowly turning into a classroom, I have learned so much about myself and how I have grown as a woman and as a person. As a human being who finds herself in the time shared with friends and family in the kitchen. Talking freely. There is something about good food, good music, and good drink that allows me to break free, let go, and be honest with not only those around me, but with myself. It is funny to see those walls fall down in the wake of a beer with caramel hints and the simplicity of a beaten egg with mushrooms and onions that allows the complexity of life to be seen and understood and further explored. May I never stop.