On Wednesday, I sat down to write something here. I tried six different times to write six different posts about six different substantial things—stalling each time about 3 sentences in, because I was so deeply tired that the day before I mixed up the names of my neighbor’s dogs and I could barely remember the word for spatula and yet I still woke up—without the aid of an alarm clock—at 5:41 AM the following morning. Fine, fine! I thought irritably at my body. Fine you win! I’ll just go take a 7 mile run and a swim and bake two quiche crusts and make pancakes and by 9 AM feel like a limp, cooked-five-minutes-past-al-dente piece of linguine and when I try to pick up my 14-month-old, the words “Herculean effort” will spangle and sparkle in front of my eyes like a neon ticker-tape. This is fine. Is this why people day drink? Kidding, that would be a disaster. Or would it be just the ticket…?
Anyway! Carrying on! Nothing to do but carry on! Funnily enough, I don’t think I was actually particularly tired—rather, as can happen to all of us, a combination of too many deadlines and a few dreary gray days strung together and a deep-seated need to get out of the house.
A few days of sun and beach excursions and impromptu cocktail hours in the backyard with neighbors tend to set things right.
In any case, very little actual writing was done this week. In lieu of that, I’m offering up a GOOD THINGS LIST because 1: It’s joyful, and 2: I can make dinner and do laundry or put together full sentences but not both. I’m choosing the former. Ask me again tomorrow.
MUSIC! I put together a playlist on Spotify for my dad of songs to keep him young and hip (just kidding, he’s absolutely cooler than me, which means he has—among many stellar qualities—an open appreciation for good music). It’s called “tunes for Pa”, and although you are obviously not my dad, but that doesn't mean you can’t listen to it: link is here. A few other songs I have on repeat lately are:
lovesick. [FINLAY, Yoke Lore]
Champagne Affection - Ryan Riback remix [Client Liaison]
Lebanon [Ondara]
Wise Woman [Jason Mraz] **don’t make that face! Just listen first before judging.
I Lied [Lord Huron]
Spices. When I lack inspiration for dinner, I often just open the spice cabinet and start there. (Hahahaha, sorry. Sorry. You were momentarily intimidated by my domestic prowess, weren’t you? Don’t worry: My “spice cabinet” is, in fact, a jumble of oddly-sized jars that threatens to spill over constantly and is pushed into a teeny space to the right of the “flour/rice/beans/questionable powder that might be malted milk” section of the pantry shelf.) But it serves its purpose. Yesterday I surveyed it and plucked out a container of vadouvan curry powder: I added a few teaspoons to a can of coconut milk, cooked that until thickened slightly and fragrant, then added a few handfuls of chopped kale and baby spinach and stirred until the greens wilted. I sautéed some ground beef in shallots until crispy, piled it all together and added a handful of chopped fresh basil on top and a squeeze of lime juice.
Pineapple Spindrift. That is all.
The cold brew and coconut cream vegan ice cream from Jeni’s.
Swimming laps again — I love the breathless, almost dizzy feeling I get when I climb out of the water; it reminds me of emerging from meditation, like you have to shake your head slightly and blink your eyes to remember where you are, your body loose and elastic.
I just finished Early Morning Riser by Katherine Heiny and I never, ever wanted it to end. I’m not even going to bother with trying to explain why I love her novels so much, but go. Now. Go read it.
Vievee Francis’ poetry, notably this one:
HOW DELICIOUS TO SAY IT,
to allow it like hibiscus to wend over the tongue
where it opens at the gate, lending its red, unknowable
taste. What wonder the palate may embrace – in a flick
behind the teeth: loquacious, Liebchen, Schätzchen.
Let us praise the labium that shapes such syllables, and
parlay of their attendant assumptions like a shuttlecock
struck back and forth over its simple backyard net.
Let us not neglect, but laud the mature mouth ready
for more than a dollop, the spoonful of lip, loon,
April, billow, or some simple pronoun. No. It wants jouissance,
Dostoevsky, provocations heating the exchange, say
chipotles in the chocolate. Consider the uvular awakenings
of the day, the throat stretched to signify its pleasure and release.
Your name spun through the reel, wound up from the bass
of me. How I want to say it, and hear my own, again.for Matthew
The myriad ways that chocolate improves the end of any night. In the past week, I’ve had mine in the form of Texas sheet cake ice cream, a chocolate avocado smoothie, chocolate coconut stovetop pudding (the easiest dessert of all time), and vegan chocolate bars, which I cobbled together upon realizing I had half a bag of coconut flour in the pantry which I needed to use up. These bars are vegan, because 1/3 of my household is, but I am decidedly not vegan and still am craving another batch of these, stat.
Note: For the coconut cream, take a can of full-fat coconut milk and chill it for a few hours or overnight. Once chilled, open it and scoop out the solid white part—discard the clear liquid. You can also buy coconut cream.
Note on aquafaba: I learned a good trick recently—reducing your aquafaba (the liquid from canned chickpeas) gives it more strength for things like mousse. Take the liquid from two cans of chickpeas and place it in a small saucepan—simmer over low heat for 10-15 minutes or until noticeably thickened. Let cool, then measure out 1/2 cup for the recipe below.
Vegan Chocolate Bars
Makes one 8" square pan
For the shortbread base
96g (¾ cup) coconut flour
28g (1/3 cup) cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
104g (1/3 cup) maple syrup
113g (1/2 cup) coconut oil, melted
For the mousse topping
170g (1 cup) finely chopped dark chocolate
120 g (½ cup) coconut cream (see note above)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon espresso powder
120g (1/2 cup) reduced aquafaba (see note above)
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
3 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
Whisk together the coconut flour, cocoa powder, and salt. Add the maple syrup and coconut oil and stir until the dough comes together. Press the dough into a parchment-lined and greased 8” square pan (or a 9” tart pan will work). Prick the dough all over with a fork.
Bake the shortbread for about 10 to 15 minutes—it should look dry. Remove from the oven and let cool fully.
While the crust cools, make the topping: Melt the dark chocolate with coconut cream in a double boiler over low heat, stirring until smooth. Remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla and espresso powder. Set aside and let cool to room temperature.
Once cool, place the aquafaba and cream of tartar in a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Beat on medium-high speed until frothy, then add 1 tablespoon of the sugar. Continue to beat until peaks start to form, slowly adding the remaining sugar. Keep beating until you have stiff peaks.
Fold 1/4 of the aquafaba mixture into the cooled chocolate mixture, taking care not to deflate the peaks. Fold that mixture back into the remaining aquafaba mixture, folding gently until no streaks of chocolate remain.
Spread the mousse evenly over the shortbread base (if it seems like too much, spoon some into a bowl to eat separately!)—place the bars in the refrigerator and chill for at least 8 hours before slicing.