At bath time, he squeals with glee as soon as I lower him into the tub, kicking and splashing the second his chubby thighs touch the warm water. I leave the faucet running so that he can hold his hands underneath it—it’s mesmerizing to witness someone else mesmerized: his body stock still at the sensation, his mind whirling so rapidly I swear I can almost see it humming behind his eyes.
I hand him a small plastic cup with a perforated base. I sink the cup deep into the water and yank it up high with a cheerful wheeee! — the water streams out of the tiny holes like a rainforest shower. He laughs and laughs: a delighted belly laugh that overtakes him.
Again and again I plunge the cup into the water, fill it up, hold it high, and let it empty itself to make room for more.
Life mimics this little act so well, I find: I’m always piling up my current pleasures and likes and habits, then letting them trickle away (easily, without notice, without ceremony), making way for new ones.
[DO NOT WORRY I’m not about to go all Lifetime special on you here about how toddler bath time is truly a metaphor for the highs and lows of life. It’s not. Though if you can wring some poetic significance from the indignity of being covered in pesto-y handprints and blueberry stains from dinner while trying to scrub diaper cream off a naked bottom while occasionally getting peed on, then I am all ears.]
What I mean is that my small like list is always shifting to make way for more, and I love that. I used to be so much more rigid about my routine and hanging onto what I liked; the more comfortable I am with knowing that the list will keep ebbing and flowing, the more I can let things be more fluid. Things go, so that other things can come.
Right now, here are some things filling in the little spaces and cracks of my days. (I say filling in because the big things are big and static: the people, the schedule, the concrete tasks. Meals and cooking meals and cleaning up after meals. A run every morning, a bike every afternoon. My sisters. The ever-present pressure and pile of work to tackle. E-mails (man, I often wish to say GOODBYE E-MAIL YOU’RE TOO HIGH-MAINTENANCE). Pizza on Friday nights. All the other people I like and love and like some more. Writing right here, to you, whoever you are. Etc!)
The BBC show The Split. Guys, guys—LISTEN to me here I beg you. My parents recommended I watch this show and, okay, it’s the best thing I’ve seen in so long. Yes, including The Crown. And yes, I watched The Queen’s Gambit. (And also yes, I am predisposed to preferring any show with British accents but that’s not why this one is exceptional!) Just go watch it and trust me. Do not be thrown off by the first episode, which felt a little unpolished. It’s called “an emotionally charged and masterful drama” and I was literally biting my fingernails for more than a few minutes in several episodes.
The song Stolen Love by Josiah and the Bonnevilles. Incredibly good. Summer-night-windows-down-music-loud kind of song. (Also, if you’re into music, I made a new Spotify playlist just for running to share with my sisters; every week or so, I update it because fresh music makes running feel so good sometimes. So, you’re welcome, here it is!)
Upon recommendation from a reader, I started The Heart's Invisible Furies by John Boyne to force me back into my nightly reading habit. The first quarter of the book was a slog: I didn’t really like the protagonist. I didn’t really look forward to reading it, but I kept going because frankly I didn’t feel like finding a new book and re-investing myself. And THANK GOODNESS I did. My heart has been broken in several tiny, minute ways already and I’m only 3/4 of the way through.
Pears. I always forget about pears—despite how much I love them in a frangipane tart, or baked into a custard. I’ve been picking up bags of them: After dinner, I slice them thinly, heat them up until just softened, sprinkle them in cinnamon, and eat them by the bowlful. They have a very comforting pie-filling-esque vibe when eaten this way.
Now that I’ve gotten a teeny bit of a tan and a smattering of freckles across my nose (thanks to the late spring sunshine and my habit of spending the two hours of afternoon nap time outside working on my laptop on the stoop), I am shifting into summer PJ mode. These are pink and tie-dye and make me feel really so chic and cozy (and dare I say a bit sexy?) even though they are…wait for it…from Old Navy.
Six pints of Van Lleuwen ice cream delivered to my door. I repeat: SIX PINTS OF VAN LLEUWEN. Of all six, the far-and-away winner was the vegan pineapple coconut cookie: pineapple coconut ice cream with chunks of toasted coconut cake and a sweet cherry jam swirl. 1. I myself am not vegan and I’m a very discerning lover of ice cream, so if I’m recommending a vegan ice cream you KNOW it’s good. Next up, I am ordering a box of Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams—for which I’ve had a gift certificate since Christmas and was saving because it’s a deliciously nice thing to anticipate. (In case you were dying to know which flavors I’m getting, I’m eyeing the Texas sheet cake, the lemon bar, and the cold brew with coconut cream.)
Biscuits—I love them. Can you love a baked good? Truly? Well, I do. I love how they smell as they bake: buttery and toasty. I love how they remind me of home—broccoli soup and cheese drop biscuits for dinner, the edges all crispy with melted cheddar. I love how they come together in minutes, and how you can see the results of how you made them: You fold, fold, fold the dough instead of kneading (pressing down lightly with each fold to bring the dough together) and those folds turn into gorgeously flaky layers, like the striations in a rock face.
**I make biscuits most often with cheese or herbs. Sometimes I use everything bagel spice, or sesame seeds, or poppyseeds. But plain biscuits are not to be overlooked! They’re easy to freeze and make very good sandwiches.
**If you’re making these on a very hot day or in a hot place, try chilling all of your ingredients—not just the butter and liquid. Chilling the flour really can help to keep the fat intact, which leads to a better flake.
**Typically, whole grains don’t work well in biscuits. Delicate, lower-protein flours are best if you’re after very light, airy, melt-in-your-mouth biscuits. But here, I add in a tiny bit of whole grains in the form of rye flour. I really like the flavor and these biscuits are a bit sturdier anyway from all the folding so they can handle the additional heft.
** PLEASE WEIGH YOUR FLOUR WHEN YOU BAKE. Thank you and goodbye.
Touch-of-Rye Biscuits
120g (2 cups) all-purpose flour
53g (1/2 cup) rye flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
113g (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cold
340g (1 1/2 cups) buttermilk, cold
flaky sea salt
Preheat the oven to 425º F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
Whisk together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
Cut the butter into the dry ingredients using a fork or pastry cutter until it's in mostly pea-sized chunks—some chunks can be slightly larger and some smaller, but don't overwork it.
Add the buttermilk, starting with just 1 cup. Stir it into the dough with a fork until it is somewhat evenly moistened, then knead it a few times in the bowl so it mostly comes together in a ball but don't overwork it at all. It should not be cohesive and there should be chunks of drier areas and some wetter areas. If it looks too dry, add more 1 tablespoon at a time, up to 1/2 cup.
Turn the dough out onto the parchment-lined sheet, and fold it over onto itself until there aren't any dry spots remaining. Don't think of this as kneading: You want to handle it gently and as you fold, the wet/dry areas will disappear. Fold about 10 or 12 times, then gently press the dough down to a rectangle about 2 inches high.
Using a sharp knife, cut the dough into 2" squares and separate them slightly on the baking sheet. If you want some shine to the biscuits, brush the tops with the heavy cream or milk. Sprinkle with flaky sea salt.
Bake for about 12 to 15 minutes, or until the edges are just beginning to take on a deep golden brown color. Let cool slightly, then eat!