Well. Hello.
It's been a little quiet around here lately. Thanks for stopping by every now and again to check in on me, nonetheless. I have now received enough mildly concerned e-mails and voice messages to know that I had better pop in, if only for a moment. Dear, doting readers, never fear! I'm alive and kicking. Alive and cooking, even.
My recent silence is not for lack of things to tell you. I've mixed and blended and whipped and whirred and kneaded and rolled out quite a backlog of goodies over the last week and a half. It's just that in the tug of war between my kitchen and my computer desk, the kitchen has been the reigning champ around here. That kitchen. With her shiny knives and crinkly rolls of parchment paper, she sure does know how to rope me in and pull me clean across that center line.
On Friday morning, I had the best of intentions: I would finish up the cooking by noon - we were hosting guests that evening - and then scoot right over to Sweet Amandine to tell the tale of the snappy ginger coffee cake that I baked on Tuesday. Maybe, I speculated optimistically, I would even get going on a post about Thursday's swoon-worthy rugelach. By 11am on Friday morning, the pâte brisée was snugly tucked into its pan and awaiting its apples and cream, and two braided loaves had begun their final rise. This was the moment to make my move. But then, en route to my desk, I saw a picture of my dear friend Naomi leaning against the old books on our mantle. One thing led to another, and suddenly I was back in the kitchen cutting butter into flour and cornmeal so that I could get a batch of corn-cherry scones in the mail to her by the end of the day. And now that the buttermilk carton was open, why not bake up a few extras to send to my sweet friend Sarit in Princeton? And Eli's brother and sister-in-law in Teaneck? Needless to say, I never made it into my office before our dinner guests arrived.
And Friday was only the beginning. Since then, I've baked a rich, mousse-y chocolate cake that looked like a pile of manure squashed by two ample butt cheeks, but tasted like heaven, a tray of chocolate covered coconut macaroons, two batches of almond macaroons, and sixty cherry-almond chocolate candies. Whew.
Next week, I'm going to tell you all about it. I promise.
For now, to those of you celebrating the Jewish holiday of Passover, may it be a liberating one for you and yours.
See you Sunday.