I’ve tried to write this post a number of times over the past three weeks and failed. I’ve learned that when you get to be a certain age and you tell people you have big news to share, they assume you’re pregnant. You assure them that’s not it. Engaged! Nope, that’s not it either. We’re not getting a puppy and we’re also not buying a house. Or a new car. But I am staying up late at night, pacing a lot, alphabetizing our spice cabinet, and cleaning odd nooks and crannies to try and really acquaint myself with the task at hand: I’m writing a cookbook! I will be working with the wonderful folks at Ten Speed Press on a whole grain breakfast cookbook coming out Fall/Holiday 2013. It will feature Marge granola recipes along with mueslis, warm grain cereals, breakfast bars and cookies, yogurts, seasonal fruit toppings and all sorts of other start-the-day goodness. There will be stories of mornings in San Francisco and here in Seattle, of starting a small business, and moving to a new city. I’ve been so looking forward to toasting with you all here, and can’t wait to share some of this journey with you. It’s going to be one busy summer. To be completely honest, I have had a little bit of trouble beginning the cookbook. I sat down to write a friend the other day and the words to describe how I’ve been feeling finally came to me: I’ve been circling it. I truly feel like it’s been this thing in my life, in our house, and at the table that I’ve just been kind of walking around, keeping my distance, and checking out from afar. Sam and I talk about it as if it’s a living being. A sibling or a child. A pesky one. A sleepless one.
This is odd because I tend to be a go-get-em’ kind of gal. I’ve written large graduate papers, designed and taught composition courses, and started my own business. But for some reason when it comes to delving into the cookbook, I turn to something else. You can’t possibly start developing whole grain recipes unless you have pretty jars to store all those grains in, right? Errand #1! It’s probably a really good time to organize your hard drive, get those finances in order, and really learn the ins and outs of Evernote. Task #16! Maybe it’s time to research a new camera, try that sandwich spot across town, and write a letter to your grandparents. Now that that’s all done and I’ve circled and circled, I’ve run out of errands and tasks.
When I was talking to my mom the other day on the phone, expressing concern that maybe I’ve been avoiding this project, she assured me that I’d actually been working away on it. Then Sam told me the same thing. Subconsciously, they said, I was tackling it. All of that organizing and cleaning, all of those errands — that was my way of making space for it all. Clearing the decks, I call it. In a way the project is kind of like when you walk into a dark room and you can see the shape of a figure or an object perfectly but can’t quite make out the details just yet. You probably know that feeling.
It’s a feeling I experienced when I taught freshman writing during my last semester of graduate school. I spent the summer beforehand planning the course I’d teach. I knew the shape of it very well. But on the first day, I doubted myself. All of a sudden I realized that the big picture was clear but the details were far from it. I didn’t look much older than my students, I’d memorized the rules for comma usage at 3 a.m. the night before to make sure I knew exactly what I was talking about, and my left eye started twitching nervously. My cheeks became hot and I wished I’d worn different shoes. That night I had a pep talk with myself: You know more than these kids. You know a lot. The shape and content of this course is well-researched and engaging. But the outline was just the beginning–next came the time to really dig in. The second day I wore more comfortable shoes, pulled my hair back, and walked in more assured. As I did the rest of the semester. And the following year. The details became clearer and clearer with each day.
And now here we are. At a juncture where I know I have so much to share with you. Making perfect granola and yogurt at home, getting acquainted with morning whole grains, how to make awesome breakfast cakes, savory porridge, homemade maple butter, jammy fruit toppings. It’s the way I eat in the morning, and I’m being given the opportunity to share that with you all. In recipes, narrative, and photos. That’s major. So, maybe we can have a drink to that. And then I think it’s time to get down to business.
This cocktail was inspired by a drink I saw over on Design Sponge recently called The Moroccan. It features coriander simple syrup, orange liquor, and dry vermouth. I wanted to add a touch of gin and then balance that out with some Rachel’s Ginger Beer (if you’re in the Seattle area and you haven’t tried RGB, you’re missing out. It’s not at all too sweet and loaded with real ginger. I love it straight on a warm afternoon or in many a cocktail.)
For this drink, the coriander simple syrup lends an earthy citrus flavor; pick up coriander seed in bulk at your local market so as to avoid buying a whole container that will likely sit around for months. They’ll be fresher this way, too. I usually make my simple syrup a little less sweet than most. If you like yours sweeter, add a whole cup of sugar. Save leftover simple syrup in a mason jar in the fridge for future cocktails. And last: thank you for being here, now, on this little ride with me.
To make the simple syrup, heat the water, sugar and coriander seeds over medium heat in a heavy-bottom saucepan until the mixture just comes to a boil. Remove from heat, cover and refrigerate for at least one hour. The longer the syrup sits, the more the flavor will develop. Drain the liquid away from seeds and set aside (store what you don’t use in a mason jar for later).
To mix the drink, combine the vermouth, orange liquor, gin, simple syrup and bitters over ice in a cocktail shaker. Shake well. Pour into cocktail glasses. Pour ginger beer on top of each cocktail as a floater. Garnish with orange slices. Chee
Something funny happens when you live with someone instead of dating them from afar. You learn little nuances about each other's behavior, see the bottom-of-the-barrel sweaters, take out the trash, and buy underwear and shampoo together. Sam calls my beloved furry slippers old lady slippers and, to be fair, they kind of are. And I've become well acquainted with his holey "sick sweater," his eagerness to retrieve the mail in the early afternoon, and his uncanny ability to drink more tea than anyone I've ever known. Also, I'm learning things about myself. Like the fact that, apparently, most people don't eat a whole grapefruit when they sit down for breakfast. According to Sam, they stop at a half.
Waffles. I don't make them often enough and I'm not sure why. Oh, wait: I am sure why. Because they always seem like kind of a slow, slumbery, Sunday thing to make and I rarely have those kind of mornings--even on Sundays. But I found a recipe I've fallen pretty hard for. It's an old-fashioned waffle recipe and you make the yeasted batter in advance, put it in the fridge for 12-24 hours, and it's ready to go in the morning. I've actually kept the batter in my fridge for a few days and just pull it out, put a scoop on the waffle iron, and have a warm waffle to take in the car on the way to work. Beats a granola bar or banana any day.
The early morning view from our hotel Hi from Shanghai! I'm sitting here stealing a bit of Internet on the 32nd floor of our hotel all too early in the morning. The sun's gleaming in through the curtains, horns are starting to honk below, and I'm clutching a steaming cup of strong coffee that Walter has so kindly prepared for me. Walter's the dining room attendant and, for the lone souls who can't seem to sleep much in Shanghai (I being one of them), he'll make you one mean cup of coffee at sunrise. I have so much to share with you: photos & stories. The World Expo was really incredible, the food's been amazing, the streets are lush with leafy trees and wide-open city parks. I've discovered dragon fruit and boiled peanuts, and learned that scooters and bicyclysits don't adhere to traffic laws. We've finally figured out how to say common phrases like "thank you" properly and are logging some serious miles in our Converse.
I am officially on maternity leave and it feels stranger than I'd imagined. I thought it'd be all about catching up on novels, leisurely baking and maybe sewing a little something for Sprout. Going on lots of walks with friends and out to lunch. The reality is that most people are working during the week and can't just sneak away for lunch dates, and sitting around the house aimlessly reading seems to make me antsy. Instead, I find myself deciding that certain tasks have immense and immediate purpose (when they never seemed to before): repotting our house plants, researching new insurance plans, and planning a new product line for Marge for 2016. In the midst of all of this though, I've found some time to catch up on Netflix movies (any recommendations?), went out to Lebanese food with Sam, and finally made it to a cafe on Capital Hill I've been wanting to try for quite some time. It's gotten a bit chilly in Seattle this week so I've been making lots of cider and chai in the afternoons for an energy boost, and there certainly doesn't seem to be a shortage of soup-making or baking -- which brings me to these not-too-sweet, protein-packed blondies that I've taken quite a liking to.
There are some things you don't question or plan for. They're the things that just happen, that unfold throughout the day or week or month. The things we don't always document or discuss because they don't really seem important enough, but that -- all the same -- so often bring us together in one way or another. Patterns or obsessions or phases. Late-night online shoe shopping. Permission to nap at odd hours. Spontaneous cell-phone photo exchanges. Maybe you can relate. Maybe lately you've been doing something similar. As you do. As we do.