No Bake Almond Cream Tartlets (with vegan and gluten-free options)

I have tried to write this post so many times but can't seem to figure out what to say. Disappearing from this blog for five-ish months was not in any way intentional, and I hope I have not lost any of you along the way. Life sort of took over, and I decided to just let it. I took my final finals ever in April. I graduated law school mid-May then left town for a road trip from Atlanta to San Diego to help a friend move. When I got back, I immediately began studying for the bar exam. I started a new job mid-June. I went home to Texas mid-July and took the bar exam at the end of July. Then about a week and half ago, I moved from my condo to a house, and here we are.

I baked quite a bit throughout all the foregoing madness, played with new-to-me ingredients, had many a failure, and many sweet and satisfying successes. The more I think about it though, my absence here wasn't just a result of being busy in real life (and I hate when people complain/brag about being busy anyway). I also spent some time just thinking about my food, how I want this little internet space of mine to move forward, the conversation I want to contribute to, and generally how I want to live my food life, both savory and sweet. I have so much that I want to share, and my thoughts will come out in due course. For now though, I am back with tartlets.

Soft Chocolate Chip Cookies

I feel as though the last three weeks of my life happened in a matter of hours. One second I was talking about being real with pancakes and the next thing I knew, three weeks had passed. As I pressed post on all that pancake talk, unexpected things began happening left and right. People moving on, being forced out, going new places, breaking things off, making amends, not getting what they deserve, doing the unexpected, and being altogether crazy.

Despite all of it though, I was seemingly handling myself pretty well. All the uncertainty was rolling right off my back, like nothing had happened. Then, I almost severed the tip of my left ring finger. As in, I cut more than halfway through, nail and all. Standing over the cutting board, staring down at bloody bell pepper, I slowly realized how bad it was. I transitioned to the sink, and placed my hand under the running water, holding the tip of my finger on. I kept thinking how it was weird it didn't hurt and how those knives were actually pretty sharp, despite my complaining otherwise, and how I really freaking wanted some tacos damnit. I was completely composed as Dale cleaned and bandaged me up. And then, I sort of lost it. I was suddenly full on hysterical. It sounds silly, but apparently this was my breaking point. Dale, knowing it was about more than a cut finger, finished the tacos. And I ate them, through tears and despondence. Because I was determined to have those tacos. I had been "fine" this whole time--you know, that "blessing in disguise," "things will work out," "nope, haven't heard anything yet, but it's ok because," "things will be hard but we can do it," etc., attitude. But I guess I needed to just be sad, to be scared about the future, to be angry that life isn't fair. So I had my moment then gathered myself again over the next day then made cookies.

Blueberry Banana Buckwheat Pancakes

Lately I've been thinking a lot about living and experiences and simple things. About image and how people portray themselves, announce themselves, cloak themselves. This started to come out a little bit in my last post, but I've been struggling to put into words what I've been thinking and feeling. Then I read some posts that really resonated with me and brought everything I'd been thinking together (this one for example). The yearning for honesty. The desire to really feel and experience things.

I find myself continuously questioning all the moments and images that seem too easy, too perfect, too deliberate. All the pretend friending and pretty lifeing. Because my reality looks very little like all the dreamy, filtered pictures and nice outfits and styled life settings. And quite frankly, that's ok. In fact, that's pretty great. I want real connections, real people, real moments and memories. I want to experience everything genuine and be present in reality and be myself with other people being themselves. Lately I've felt like everything is a big competition. I look around and wonder if I'm losing. And I compare and overanalyze and even get upset sometimes. But then I stop myself and refocus my gaze upon what's right in front of me, what matters, and I realize that I'm definitely not losing. Sometimes life is messy and hard, but it's real. And real may be less pretty in some respects, but it’s far more beautiful in so many others. It’s fulfilling and disappointing and happy and sad and hectic and lazy and ridiculous and nowhere near perfect, and that’s what’s so great about it. Although I love adventures and fresh, wholesome, seasonal meals and beautiful photos, sometimes I’m tired and overwhelmed, and I eat chips and drink soda and lay on the couch with my boyfriend and my cat, and I’m totally ok with that. So I'm going to work on expressing that more here. I'm going to freaking live y'all, and it may not always be picturesque, but it will be real.

My pathetic attempt to get my gif on à la Izy.

These pancakes have become my go-to Sunday breakfast. I love how puffy and fat they are, and they stay that way sitting in the oven while you scramble to fry some eggs (!!) because you didn't time breakfast so well and you broke the yolk when you tried to flip the first egg and the bacon is still crisping and the coffee isn't ready and maybe you want to shower before you eat. They're patient pancakes. Real life pancakes.