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.

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.

The Moistest Chocolate Cake with Berry Mascarpone Frosting (for my birthday)

Today I am twenty-six. A quarter century of life behind me.

I really feel like twenty-five taught me a lot. What I love, what I don't. What and who really matters to me. How to embrace the good fully, completely, and honestly. How to let things go and brush things off. That I don't have to like and/or please everyone, or even pretend to. That things aren't as bad as I sometimes think they are, and that things are far better than I sometimes realize. What I want to be, who I want to be with, where I want to end up. How to be better and more and enough and myself. That I am so incredibly lucky for all that I have.

Big things, important things, worthy things, I guess. Things to get me at least through twenty-six.

Sometimes I think that my life is so much different than others around me. That's probably true in some ways and not at all in others, but it can, at times, feel that way. I suppose the weight of decisions, responsibility, disappointment, and reality has something to do with it. These have been reoccurring themes throughout the last year that have, I think, taught me all that stuff up there.

But, today, I am twenty-six. And despite all the seriousness behind/within this post, I am happy today! And I feel like I have so much more to come as I say goodbye to twenty-five. There is cake after all.

Maple Berry Overnight Oats

Mornings are cooler, evenings mild yet brisk and drinkable. Summer is officially over, and fall is upon us. Sunday was living proof of this with its sixty degree temperatures, cloudy skies, and rainy afternoon. Rather perfect actually. The farmers market saw fewer tomatoes, no peaches, more squash and pumpkins, apples aplenty.

While parts of me live for the cool comfort of fall, other parts want to cling to the sweet morsels of summer.

These overnight oats give me the best of both worlds (in breakfast form anyway)--cool bursts of berries with warm flavors of maple and oats. And it's ready for grabbing right out of the fridge, making it all the more appealing for my typical rushing-around-running-late-forgetting-things-every-morning ways.

Cardamom Peach Pie Filling

Dear Georgia,

I came to you two years(-ish) ago. You truly are a delight. So lush and green. Such delicious food. Such lovely shops and farmers markets. Perfectly cold in the winter. Perfectly warm in the summer. But just recently, Georgia, you were 106 degrees. Recently, you've reminded me of a moister Texas summer. Sort of like a sauna. I don't like saunas. Please return to normal. I'll love you forever.

Love,
Natasha

PS: Thanks for the peaches. I'll always love you for that.

If you are a cardamom lover, this is hands down the best peach pie filling there is. It tastes like summer. I rolled it up in yeast dough and made some killer breakfast rolls with it. Then I made some individual crisps with it (not the prettiest desserts, but still delicious). Then I finished off the last of the jar by shamefully tilting it back and tapping it into my mouth...

Rose Water Tartlets with Vanilla Sugared Berries

I have horrible luck transporting tartlets. I've been trying to figure out why I have this problem, and I think it stems from my serious love of these things. (Because I do have a serious freaking love of tartlets.) It's like I try to be too careful, which results in me overcompensating, which results in exploded tartlets inside my pastry carrier--smears of pastry cream, runaway berries, broken tart shells--and a sad me. It's not a pretty sight folks. Delicious, yes. But definitely not pretty. Unless you're into that whole abstract, deconstructed dessert thing. Then tart explosions are for you! For me, though, they only result in something like a toddler who lost her mom at the grocery store. And as an adult woman, that, too, is not pretty.

Anyway, can we talk about how pastry cream is this amazingly magical thing. So easy to make yet so incredibly satisfying and delicious and adaptable. I want to do a million different things with pastry cream, make a million different versions of pastry cream, put a million different things on and in pastry cream, and, ya know, eat it out of a cute bowl with berries and a spoon...

[In retrospect, perhaps that also contributes to my transportation problem--I get a tad overzealous when filling tartlet shells with pastry cream, thinking I can fit much more than I actually can. Not good for transporting. But very good for eating.]