Joy the Baker

Some things just shouldn’t be a luxury.  Some things are an absolute necessity.

Spending too much money at Target, for example.  Sometimes… (you know it’s true) that’s a total necessity.

Hot bath plus cold beer.  You need it.  I need it. Necessity.

A super comfortable dress that shows a little shoulder.  Everyone loves a little shoulder.

A girlfriend you can talk about your lady parts with.  Yes, I said lady parts.  Please don’t under estimate this necessity.

Aaaaand, last but not least… a little pancake love on a weekday morning.  Do it.

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I woke up to an utterly dreamy California morning on Tuesday.  The soft morning sun was just streaming through my bedroom window, the birds were singing good morning, and I knew that I had a whole basket of clean laundry for the week ahead.  Pretty sweet morning, right?

Sure… the only problem was that my brain was entirely unwilling to join  the sunny spirit.  Nope.  I felt like on  big stale loaf of bread.  After an extended love affair with my snooze button, I determined, behind closed eyelids, that the only thing that would change my circumstance was streusel topping.  On the shuffle from my warm bed to the kitchen counter I decided that blueberry muffins with streusel topping would flip the light switch in my brain.

There was only one problem with my blueberry muffin plan.  I had not a blueberry in sight.  No fresh.  No frozen… just a whole lotta outta luck.  After rifling through my freezer and fridge I emerged with the tail end of a bag of frozen raspberries, and half a jar of strawberry jam.  I figured that, brought together under the welcoming umbrella of streusel topping, these two would simply have to work.  Not but thirty minutes later, puffy streusel topped muffins found their way out of the oven and into my face.  While they didn’t pay that pesky credit card bill, or make that much needed dentist appointment, they at least kept me from crawling back in bed for a handful of hours.  Sometimes, that kind of help is just enough.

It’s not every morning that you jump out of bed ready for the world, fully equipped to make blueberry muffins.  When those morning escape you, I promise that with a little jam, the remains of your frozen fruit collection, and loads of streusel topping, you just might be able to set things right.

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On losing, letting go of little sisters, and warm biscuits:

We never talked about this.  I didn’t know how to bring it up.  The 2009 Bloggies.  Remember?  Best New Blog?  So… I sorta…. kinda…. mostly… didn’t win.  The thing is, I really really wanted to win.  I did.  I played it cool though.  On the outside, I pretended to not care either way.  That was a big fat lie.  But the thing about losing… it’s pretty cool actually… it makes me want to be better.  It also makes me unbelievably grateful for all of your smiling faces.  Fact.

I found myself in a frenzy this morning.  My little sister left for a many month long European adventure.  The thought of her being so far away that I can’t easily call her at two in the morning to scream our favorite Mariah Carey song at her sent me into panic mode.  I calmed myself, safe in the knowledge that my sister deserved some life changing adventures and I am due many presents from far away lands upon her return.

Biscuits.  If I were to hand you a warm biscuit with raspberry jam would you: a)  throw it on the ground and shove me on the floor or b) thank me kindly, gobble the biscuit and give me a giant hug?  If your answer involved shoving me on the floor… well, that’s kinda funny, but throwning biscuits on the floor is just plain rude.  Don’t do it.

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Pop Quiz:

If you could only eat one thing for the rest of you life what would it be: sweet and creamy breakfast polenta with milk or (oh my gracious heavens) sweet and creamy fried polenta bars with blackberry meyer lemon jam?

No contest.  Fried polenta with blackberry jam every day, all day.  Let’s do this.

Remember yesterday I told you about Vanilla Brown Sugar Breakfast Polenta?  That was just a dirty trick to make you have enough leftover polenta to make the real deal:  fried polenta.

A quick heads up:  this recipe involves butter and results in an almost French Toast-ish, outta this world breakfast.  If you’re not ready for that… completely understandable… you might want to sit this one out.   I won’t judge.

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