It’s raining, it’s before 8:00 a.m., and I’m eating cookies for breakfast. But these aren’t just any cookies: they’re made without egg, so they’re almost more like pumpkin drop biscuits. They’re amazing with hot coffee and the latest episode of Dexter.
I got back from Jean’s memorial last night and have given myself this day to hunker down a little, do some laundry, nap, hang out with the dogs, read, watch movies…whatever. Since my folks moved to the Bay Area when I left for college, I don’t go back to my hometown for holidays–or for much, really. So going back to Eureka is always odd. Sometimes I feel nostalgic walking around the quaint downtown, getting a bagel at Los Bagels, or going to the park. But this trip was, obviously, a different one filled with days that seemed to go on forever, family friends I haven’t seen in fifteen years, and new friends from Boston that Jean loved dearly (and I can see why).
So it was mentally exhausting for many reasons. And today I’m just laying low. I do have a few people coming over to potentially purchase my Vespa (cross your fingers!), but other than that, this could be a stay-in-your-pj’s kind of day. And these are the perfect laying low cookies.
They’re easy to whip out, and you probably have most of the ingredients on hand. They’re cakey rather than crispy, and have a nice heft that’s perfect for a rainy day. When my mom makes these, she leaves out the raisins and nuts altogether. I’ve adapted the recipe to include a little dollop of icing on top. They’re perfect this way. Again, feel free to leave it out if you prefer.
Very slightly adapted from In a Vermont Kitchen by Amy Lyon and Lynne Andreen
Preheat oven to 375. In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, salt and sugar.
In a medium bowl, mix together the pumpkin, butter, and orange peel. Add the dry ingredients to the pumpkin mixture, and mix until just incorporated. Stir in the raisins and walnuts. Drop dough by tablespoonful onto ungreased baking sheets. Bake 10 minutes, then transfer the cookies to a wire rack to cool completely.
To make the icing: stir in 1 tablespoon of heavy cream into the powdered sugar and cinnamon, and slowly add more until you reach a smooth consistency that you like (some people like thicker icing than others). I generally will add a little over 2 tablespoons to a cup of sugar and whisk well. Ice the cookies when they are cooled completely. The icing will dry nicely on top. These have a rustic look, so don’t worry about being precise with the icing or the shape of the cookie.
On Monday our little family of three is headed to the airport at 6 am to board our first with-baby cross-country trip. We'll be visiting Sam's family in New Jersey for a few days, then renting a car and driving over to meet up with my family at my mom's lake house in the Adirondacks. Sam's younger sister and her kids have yet to meet Oliver; my grandpa has yet to meet him, and Oliver has yet to take a dunk in a lake, see a firefly, or spend quality time with energetic dogs -- of which there will be three. A lot of firsts. This week my family has been madly texting, volunteering to make certain meals or sweets on assigned days while we're at the cabin and it got me thinking about really simple, effortless summer desserts -- in particular, ones that you can make while staying in a house with an unfamiliar kitchen and unfamiliar equipment and still do a pretty bang-up job. I think fruit crisp is just that thing.
This past week we've had quite a heat wave in Seattle. I've been getting into the bakery early in the mornings so as to avoid the afternoon heat + hot oven combination, and it turns out the upstairs of our new house is quite a little hot box. I bought some aggressive blinds and a new fan and am hoping both will help cool things down a bit. The wool blanket is in the linen closet for the season, and Sam's been making iced tea like it's his job. Summer has arrived! A few nights ago, the thought of actually doing much real cooking seemed a bit overwhelming, so I figured it was time to dig out the ice cream maker and get to work. I'd wanted to do something with the beautiful strawberries we have in the markets right now, but it seems every time I get a little pint it's gone before I have the chance. They are just so incredibly sweet, and it seems a shame to do anything other than eat them right out of the container, preferably while sitting on the Moroccan picnic blanket you brought back from honeymoon on the lawn in your new backyard trying not to stress out about the incredible, insurmountable number of weeds. So. Many. Weeds. But cherries: somehow the bag of cherries made it safely through the weekend, so I set about to find a great cherry ice cream recipe.
When you have an eight month old baby, making social plans can be hard. Especially in the evenings. When I was pregnant, I read Bringing up Bebe and one of the big premises of the book is how the French feel strongly that babies and children can fit into your lives and that you shouldn't have to change and alter everything to accommodate them. I remember reading the book and thinking: YES! Life will be just as it was, except we'll have a small baby in tow. Obviously a few things would likely be different, but I didn't want to change our routines, change the way we cooked or approached time off together, or see our friends any less. Well of course I'm the fool. Or at the very least, I'm not as French as I thought I was. Today, we very much schedule things around Oliver's nap schedule and bedtime, but thankfully we have a lot of other friends with kids who get it. Friends who make homemade cookies, own ice cream businesses, and have really great taste in music. Friends who host the kind of occasion that warrants homemade hot fudge sauce and eating dessert first.
We're back! After a restful few days in Lake George, I ended up flying home while Sam spent a little time with his family in New Jersey and a few days in New York City by himself before taking the train all the way back to Seattle (a solid four day journey). If you know Sam, this isn't surprising; he loves trains. When he's gone, I quickly revert back to my single gal days of eating veggie quesadillas for dinner (over and over) and staying up working later than I'd like. We would talk on the phone often as Sam would narrate his very full days in New York City and the stops and layovers he had while on the train. After a few days of me lamenting the fact that I wasn't there to experience it all with him, he encouraged me to ditch the quesadillas and do something special for dinner. See a movie. Go to the museum for just an hour. In short: I needed to get better at dating myself.
I received The Sprouted Kitchen Bowl + Spoon cookbook in the mail not long before we moved to our new house, and I remember lying in bed and bookmarking pages I was excited to try but also feeling overwhelmed with where to start: the truth is that this summer has been a relatively low-inspiration / low energy time in the kitchen for me. I'd been chalking it up to pregnancy but when I think back and if I'm honest with myself, my cooking style tends to be very easy and produce-driven during these warmer months. I rarely break out complicated recipes, instead relying on fresh tomatoes and corn or zucchini and homemade pesto to guide me. But last night I cracked open Sara's book and pulled out a few peaches I've had sitting on the counter, fearing their season may be nearing its end. This morning as I was making coffee, I sliced up the peaches, toasted the pecans and churned away -- having a bite (or maybe two) before getting it into the freezer to firm up.