Posts in Fruit
prosecco cake with grapefruit curd & vanilla bean icing

Sometimes working at a bakery and also baking at home proves to be a challenge. It’s hard to separate the two environments from a creative perspective. I want to be innovative at work and produce goods that will excite customers and do joyful justice to our industry. But as an at-home creative, I don’t want to exhaust it fully there. I want to test things and try things from my own kitchen, hopefully to eventually share here or with friends. And I don’t want those to overlap, for the sake of my work’s integrity. So in some senses, it feels like my personal endeavors have been limited.

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grapefruit curd

Grapefruit curd has been gloriously haunting my thoughts for weeks. Something about the grapefruit seems native to my family. My mom (i.e., Suz) loves it, from childhood days spent at her grandma’s Florida house. And somehow the grapefruit was always mysteriously in our house… Whether in juice or raw form. My mom eats it like candy. And she’s a purist. Back in the days when I thought it was too tart, I’d add some sugar and show it to my mom as if I was the front runner of the Enlightenment, insisting that it was way more delicious and how could she not want it that way. “Nope,” she’d shake her head. And then walk away, leaving me in a state of pure shock. 

Now I understand.

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peach cake and new traditions

One of the sweetest things about this daring and new phase of life, this settling into marriage and days in a different city, is the establishment of new traditions. Ask anyone who knows me well at all, they'll tell you that I am a traditions fanatic. Maybe it's that I'm the youngest of the fam. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe it's just in the threads of my being. Whatever it is (I'm going with the latter), I can't stop.

At first, I've mourned the loss of well-known traditions- ones that felt like home and comfort. The ease and habits of having female roommates. The way I could hole away at any time for personal renewal. The family dinners we'd established in college. My coffee shops, my frequented locations. The music I'd always listen to. These things were part of my composure, I thought. But what I'm finding is that I haven't lost them entirely. Sure, some of them were and will only be circumstantially confined to my college days. But that's okay. Because truly, they're not gone. They're still here. They're simply being polished and refined as they converge with those of my husband. 

And when I think about it, that's a really, really sweet thing. That's one of the most precious things that could happen to a person. 

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my favorite baked apple cinnamon oatmeal

THEY HAVE ARRIVED. The days that we've all been waiting for. Or at least me.

Cloud-covered skies, consistent breeze running through my hair, sporadic rain. Gourds and pumpkins and pops of orange everywhere. Whispers of autumnal festivities and dinner parties and gatherings. As with the change of every season, this is the time when we gather together, when we commune to express our gratitude and celebrate the newness. My wardrobe changes to black and gray and brown and oxblood. During this season I just can't hide my excitement. I think there's a consistent glimmer in my eyes, a subtle, never-ending grin on my lips. I can't make it go away, and I don't want to.

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Breakfast, Fruitellyn hopperComment