A long absence, I know. I had resigned myself to only posting once a week due to work and toddler and ... well, that's it. But it's enough. THEN! I suffered a neck-shoulder injury-trauma, brought on by what else, stress, and was off the computer for a couple of weeks. This is week five and my shoulder still isn't 100%, but it's much better. So here I am. I have been looking at my favorite blogs, so that has been lovely, but I needed to get writing mine again.
When you have job+child, it's hard to figure out where you fit in. I mean, where are my hobbies. If I have seven, that's too many. But, can I have three? I find that I need to plan and "make time" and bargain and settle. Cooking happens mostly on the weekend. That makes me sad.
I keep thinking I am going to hit some sort of graceful stride and be able to not only cook during the workweek but also blog about it. Maybe. Doesn't seem like it's around any corner of any block that I am curretnly walking on or en route to.
Weeks ago, with the last tomatoes from our yard as an accompaniment, I made this leek tart. It was creamy and gorgeous. I thought the crust looked liked the Collosseum. As an accompaniment, we had homemade bread with those garden tomatoes I mentioned. Delicious.
And when you break out a wedge of something like this at the lunch table, you feel a certain pride. I heat my leftovers and wait to be asked what it is so I can beam and crow, "Oh, this? It's just a tart. Made completely from scratch with these very hands. It was nothing."
Speaking of light and tender. Biscuits. They should be light and tender, right? I don't know how well I did atop the pot pie - it was good, but hard to really judge texture when you are eating it with other goop. The whole pot pie preparation got me thinking about scones and the travesty being visited upon them in coffee shop and bakery, near and far. Several times now, when I had a hankering for a scone, I would check out my local purveyors ... and conclude that no one undestands this treat. The scone does not have frosting. The scone is not cloying. The scone is not a cake. You cut in the butter, like a biscuit. The housemade scones at the local cafe Josh and I frequent always sells out of their scones. I was fortunate enough to arrive early once to see what the fuss was about. The fuss is about nothing. Nothing. It was cloying and cakey, not light and tender with a hint of sweetness. I had a conversation with my mother's neghbor about why her scones never came out right - she was making them from a mix. I told her about the whole cutting in thing. But I am sure that a lot of the shops around here would think those mix-originated scones were just fine. But they aren't. They really aren't!
Stop the madness! Bring light and flaky back!
