I’m sitting crosslegged at my desk, which looks out over the sloping roof to the backyard. The trees are mostly bare already, their limbs dark and skeletal looking against the slate gray sky. One stands out still—the dogwood tree—which is covered in dark wine-red leaves that tremble and shake in the wind. Rain is lashing against the windows; I’m waiting for it to let up just slightly so I can dash outside to put out the trash.
Read moreSOURDOUGH BISCUITS
I’ve been meaning to write about these sourdough biscuits for over two weeks now, ever since I put my first batch in the oven, walked back into the kitchen ten minutes later, sniffed the air, and nearly fell over from the sheer deliciousness of the scent alone.
And I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. If you’ve seen me post some snapshots of them over the past two weeks and you’ve been waiting for the recipe, hopefully it’s something you’ve been able to look forward to rather than wring your hands in desperation over the delay. Hopefully reading these words is a small pleasure that anticipation has only heightened.
Read moreSOURDOUGH CHOCOLATE CAKE
One day soon, I might post a recipe that doesn’t start with sourdough. Or, alternatively, maybe I’ll turn every single thing I like to bake into a sourdough version. Who’s to say? Stick around for the ride! It’ll be a surprise! Much like life itself, right? One week it’s cold and chilly and feels like winter, and the next week I pass a guy wearing khaki shorts and Birkenstocks on my evening walk in the park. One month you can’t fall asleep without playing the NYT crossword, and the next month you want nothing more than get under the covers to read another page of your novel (I’ve just finished this one, am now starting this one, and this one is next). One day you love omelettes with a roughly 50/50 ratio of Gruyere cheese to egg, and the next day you are over Gruyere and would really appreciate some cheddar. Being alive is wild, man.
Read moreSOURDOUGH PUMPKIN CHOCOLATE CHIP LOAF
I was walking through the West Village yesterday. The sun was shining and the day was one of those brilliant, made-for-a-postcard ones—the sky a fierce cobalt blue and the sidewalk cafes and restaurants crowded with people drinking and laughing. A shiny, polished, new penny sort of fall day.
Read moreNUTELLA HALVA BABKA
My alarm goes off at 6:30 AM, but I’m already mostly awake. I’m letting my eyes adjust to the room and considering just how much effort it will take to peel back the comforter, get up, and open the heavy floor-length curtains that block the light from the French doors on one side of the bedroom.
I like to pull them open and stay in bed for a bit, watching the sky brighten slowly over the treetops, touching each of the brownstones on the street one by one.
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