Calming Banana Granola (vegan and gluten-free)

This week, I officially became a full-time member of the workforce. It's pretty weird, what with having been in school full-time for the past... my whole life. Although a lot is different, mornings especially are. I mean, I've had early classes before, but you can sort of just roll out of bed, throw on some leggings and Keds, and pretty much sleep type your way through classes. That isn't so much the case now. I've really been hoping that I will, at some point, become a morning person. Mornings for me, are a sort of slow, disorderly routine. Alarm --> snooze --> alarm --> snooze --> alarm --> etc. I generally blame my cat for the fact that getting out of bed is so hard. He lays right between me and the edge of my side of the bed, making it pretty much impossible for me to get up. Impossible. It's totally the cat.

I always think I look funny in the morning. Not in a sleepy way, more in a I-shouldn't-be-seen-by-other-people-at-this-hour way. I usually will take a few seconds to gaze in the mirror and decide whether or not my hair "slept" well enough that I don't have to do anything to it. The bangs I'm trying to grow out typically do not, but I will generally decide that the rest of my hair has. And I don't have time to do anything about it anyway. But I do have time to make coffee. There is always time for coffee. So, while brushing my teeth, I'll start a kettle of water, weigh out my coffee beans, grind them on the setting Dale has instructed me is the one for Chemex. At some point I'll stop brushing my teeth after realizing that I am still brushing my teeth and have been for much too long. I may make a salad for lunch, or not and instead grab a banana and some PB or chips and hummus or whatever else I can stuff into a plastic baggy or throw in my massive handbag. I may turn on the Today show for background noise about some band called One Direction or whether it's appropriate to spy on my toddler's Facebook account or the latest opinions of professionals on professional things. I may do my makeup while sitting on my bed, or in the bathroom, ...or in the car (only at stoplights, y'all, chill). I almost always accidentally let the water for the coffee get too hot and have to wait for it to cool to the proper temperature (coffee-making is serious business), during which time I likely could have done something about that poorly slept hair. Then I'll realize that not only is the water too hot, I'm freaking hot and so I'll fall flat on my back on my bed with the fan on high to try to stop sweating and then think about the fact that I'm still in pajamas and was supposed to leave 20 minutes ago and "what happened to all that time I had?" and ohmygodmorningsaretheworst.

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.

Individual Cinnamon Buns with Berry Glaze

When I was in middle school, my mom would buy the cinnamon rolls that come in a can for Sunday breakfast. I loved waking up to a gooey cinnamon roll and lathering on that thick, canned, cream cheese frosting. My mom wouldn't partake in them, I suppose because she just doesn't have much of a sweet tooth. Nowadays, I likely wouldn't partake in them either. They just don't compare to homemade.

Making homemade cinnamon buns is a bit laborious, what with the two rises, but it's totally worth the effort and time. The yeast dough is so soft and sweet, the filling perfectly spiced and sticky. And since they're homemade, they're totally customizable.

Butternut Squash Muffins

Last week, Dale was in Nicaragua doing super cool coffee things. Because he's cool and talented and interesting like that. While he was gone, I remembered a few things that I'd forgotten since having Dale around all the time:

1. Sometimes, I forget to eat dinner.

2. I'm pretty sure that my cat loves laying next to me on the couch more than anything in the entire world.

3. I need someone around to talk to at home, otherwise, I descend into nonsensical one-sided conversations with my cat. It's pretty normal.

4. I get really cold at night. Like really.

So, while Dale was off doing adventurous, awesome things, I was here working on a paper, which I presented at a conference on Saturday, and I was working on a contract. Totally thrilling, right? Then, I roasted a butternut squash, stirred in some sugar and spices and things, sprinkled with streusel, and ate these muffins.

Pear, Sage, & Toasted Vanilla Hand Pies

It's crazy how motivated I get to do anything but study when I have nothing but studying that needs to be done. Nothing gets me in a cleaning, purging, organizing mode quite like having a million pages to write/read/cryover.

Thus, in the past two weeks, I have done some updating, reorganizing, and contemplating. I got a new TV stand (it's mint green, tall, and dashing). New soap dispensers (because it's the little things that make a difference, right?) and the European sham of my dreams. Dale got some geeky things--a vintage Chemex and baby blue coffee mugs. And I have been scouring the webs and stores and places for seating, preferably sofa-sectional-chaise style. That will be a bit of investment however, so these are only cushioned daydreams currently.

I guess this began with a mission to revamp my spaces. Space makes such a difference in mood and motivation and other such things. It's about light and situation. It's about wishing I could paint things and frame them and hang them and love them. It's about bookmarking DIYs. It's about plans of furniture building, starting with a rustic coffee table, ending hopefully with a substantial dining table (which I currently lack, even in insubstantial form).

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.

Champagne Grape and Sherry Cream Scones

I've realized over the past couple of years that I am sort of a girly girl. And because I thought it'd be fun, and because I for some reason felt I needed to prove it, I was going to tell you about some of the girly things that I like. Then I started to list some of those things, and I had some realizations.

1. I like a lot of the same things that children like. I have, more than once, said to a friend's child: "I have a dress just like that!" [Note to self: owning a dress that is virtually identical to a dress owned by a child is, in most cases, not a good thing.]

2. I am, in fact, not a child. Hey self, you're 25. A year away from being a full on lawyer. From having a real life job thing. From having to pay back those loans. #nonchildthings For real.

3. I probably need to grow up, just a touch. Maybe it's time for more high heels and fewer Keds, more serious outfits and fewer flowery dresses. To trade in the straight across bangs for "grown-up" hair. I'm working on it. I just, ya know, like my Keds and my flowery dresses and my bangs. And, I mean, I'm responsible. I take care of my child (i.e., kitten). I complete all my work, pay all my bills on time, etc. And I own two suits!! Plus, I enjoy bourbon and coffee, which obviously helps my case... right? Let's go with yes.

Anyway, back to girly things like fluffy scones on flowery plates.

I got some champagne grapes at the store a couple of days ago. They are lovely little things. Delightful bursts of flavor. I originally wanted to put them on top of a mound of pastry cream in the middle of a tartlet shell, but I thought I better chill out on the tartlet front.

Bourbon Banana Nut Bread

See that bottom slice? It's soaking in bourbon glaze. It's going to be super-bourboned. In the best way.

Sometimes I just want something fulfilling and simple, like a fried egg or french fries or banana bread, ya know? Sometimes I also want bourbon. Who am I kidding, most times I want bourbon.

Actually, I always thought I was a gin kinda gal (see previous post... I quite clearly am), but I have learned that I also have a serious affection for bourbon. I've decided that bourbon is kind of like a dog--always makes you feel like you're awesome but can sometimes cause trouble. I like that. Plus, bourbon pairs really well with my favorite ginger beer, with my nerves, and now with my super ripe bananas.

At this point, I feel I should provide a disclaimer. I don't have to have alcoholic glaze with eeeverything I bake. It's just that, well, it's summaaatiiime. Gin and bourbon glazed desserts are totally allowed/encouraged in my book. Onward!
 
This bread is thick and moist and nutty and has lots of sexy quick bread crevices to capture that kick of bourbon glaze. It's breakfast, it's dessert, it's an after-work cocktail. These are beautiful things happening here.

Mini Lemon Scented Strawberry Rhubarb Buckles

I remember the first time my mum made rhubarb crisp when I was kid. I stood in the kitchen watching her sprinkle butter and sugar over top of the rhubarb, thinking, "Uh, I'm pretty sure she's putting celery in my dessert. Gross." Oh how wrong that child was.

My mum is one of those weirdos (albeit a beautiful one) who doesn't like strawberries (or raspberries or coconut or pineapple...), so I never had the heavenly combination of rhubarb and strawberry until much later in life. And well, the two were pretty much meant to be together.

I had been itching to bake something with rhubarb, so when I finally found some good strawberries at the farmer's market (they've been a little rusty this season), I knew something delicious was about to happen. I wanted a self-contained pastry, but I didn't want a muffin or a tart. So these mini buckles were born. They're probably not buckles in the strictest sense of the term, what with the shortbread like dough that makes up the bottom and sides. In any case, they might be some of the most delicious baked fruit desserts I've made. Truth.