Bread and Pie
I’ve gotten a little behind on my writing - forgive me, it’s fall and ALL the things are happening - but let me catch you up on some of the fun we’ve been up to since I posted last.
Firstly, of course, we must talk about Bake Off.
Two weeks ago was bread week - and Eric and I decided to attempt a sourdough tear-and-share. We cobbled together a recipe, layered our bread dough with caramelized shallots and cheese, and then twisted it into this magnificent star.
It looked amazing. Smelled amazing. But I’m sorry to say it was a little overproved and a little overbaked. SO - not bad for a first attempt, but not our best creation to date. Next time I think we’ll try to find a recipe we can follow step-by-step the whole way through, without making a hundred deviations and/or edits, and see what we come up with. Because this guy had serious potential…just came up short on the texture execution.
Last Friday’s theme was Mexican bakes - which, when I heard, immediately made me guess that the bakers would be tackling tortillas and tres leches cakes. I was right on both counts, to my immense satisfaction, and we had a good laugh watching the contestants do things like attack avocados with potato peelers.
Living where we do, there is no shortage of access to wonderful, authentic Mexican restaurants and flavors - so we actually ended up deciding to skip this theme (after all - not a week goes by without us cooking up or going out for fajitas, chilaquiles, tamales, or classic rice and beans). We did not, however, skip out on baking.
We had to bake, you see, for my favorite holiday of the year - the Pie Party!
It’s this magnificent potluck that my parents host (and have hosted every October since I was small) where everyone brings a pie, sweet or savory, and we all get to chat and eat and celebrate fall together. The past two years have been cancelled, on account of COVID, but this year we were finally able to gather together in their back yard and fill our bellies with pie.
The “rule” is that every group must bring a pie - but Eric and I are overachievers. So we made three. From left to right, I give you humble peanut butter, hearty steak and potato, and decadent lime meringue.
And yes, I DID put my butane torch skills to the test on that meringue top - the smell of toasted sugar was ridiculous.
I took just one picture at the party itself, of roughly 1/3 of the available pies, but I tell you - this is what my heaven looks like. And tastes like. I wish it was Pie Party day every day!
On another note, I am so excited to tell you that I’m done - I’ve finished! The beginner e-courses are now available. You can find them by clicking on the “Courses” button up in the navigation.
Early on, I planned some sort of big celebration when I finished. At the very least, I thought I’d jump up and down, dance like a wild woman, run outside and whoop and sing and laugh at the joy of being done…but it’s ended up being such a soft affair, the completion of this project. Like a sigh or the gentle closing of my eyes as I settle down for a good sleep. I am immensely proud, but not in an excited way - instead I just feel peaceful. It has been a journey of determination and though I’m sure there will be things I want to add/change as time passes, the finished product feels so solid. I guess that’s all I have to say - these few words to encapsulate years of dreaming and months of doing.
I’m fully taking the next week off of work - I will sew and knit and finish the great tidy and rearrange of my studio and then we’ll see. I am celebrating with the gift of mental rest.
Is it looking like autumn where you live? Here, we are reaching peak beauty for the season.
The rabbitbrush is fading from vivid yellow to its winter coloring of dry, dusty golden brown (which is actually how I like it best). We’ve had a few rain showers and the old blooms, when wet, smell like some floral, spiced apple concoction. It’s bizarre and wonderful and has become the backdrop to our outdoor excursions - the scent of fall accompanying us everywhere.
Around us, the cottonwoods are turning to yellow and on our little plot, some of the trees we planted with our own hands are showing their thanks with color of their own. Golden for the aspens, crimson for the oaks.
The high country, too, has turned.
To celebrate our fourth anniversary, Eric and I drove up the canyon to the valley where we got married. It’s been a couple years - in 2020, the area was on fire. In 2021, we were traveling. But that land knows me, still.
New deciduous trees brought color to mountainsides where the evergreens had once reigned. And beyond the edges of the burn scar? The aspens were lit up, as bright as ever.
I know, I know - “nothing gold can stay.” But I’ll linger in these golden days as long as they last.