I am always messing about in the kitchen. It seems silly that I have never posted a recipe here. I suppose the reason most things I bake I either threw together without any sort of measurements, or I would like to improve in some way. Maybe I want to add honey or cardamom. Maybe I want it denser or lighter. Maybe I forgot to take a picture, again.

But this recipe…this is the one recipe I have never been tempted to change. It is simple and perfect and lovely. They are humble little thumbprints, but they are the cookies I come back to year after year.

A word on ingredients. I like to use whole-wheat pastry flour for these cookies. That way, they don’t give me much of a stomach ache when I eat four for breakfast three days in a row. If you don’t have that problem, feel free to use all-purpose flour or a combination of the two. Spelt flour might be interesting. I like to use raw/turbinado sugar, but it is too coarse for this recipe, so if it is all you have on hand, give it a whirl in the food processor to get it nice and fine. I think raspberry jam is the best in these cookies, but use whatever you like.

Thumbprint Cookies

3/4 c unsalted butter, room temp.
1/2 c sugar
2 egg yolks
1 3/4 c flour
a tiny pinch of salt
jam

Preheat oven to 375 F (that’s 190 C). Mix butter, sugar, and egg yolks. Stir in salt and flour. It should be a nice, soft dough. Roll it into balls the size of acorns. Place the balls on an ungreased cookie sheet a couple inches apart from one another, and make a nice thumbprint in each one of them. Fill the prints with the jam of your choice and bake 8-10 minutes.

You can eat them right out of the oven, but I think they are best the second day.

“I had always wanted to be an explorer, though I didn’t know it at the time.”

I have started typing up the first part of the novel I’m working on. This will be a longer one, so I’m doing it in chunks, rather than scribbling the whole thing out and then going back to type it up. That line, the first line, is what the whole story sprang from. This particular character has been a pleasure to work with, and an entirely good influence on me. I just know you’ll like him.

Publishing the children’s book has been going slowly, which one can expect, I suppose. But in the last week at work, I discovered I had a small wealth of a couple people at the coffee shop who have connections in the literary world and would like to help me a bit along the way. Their expressed support alone is worth gold.

In other news, the strawberries are ripe. I bought a couple quarts at the farmer’s market this morning and have great plans for some afternoon strawberry shortcake, and perhaps some jam. I also got fresh peas, cucumber, and a loaf of sourdough bread. June is such a nice time for eating!

Sitting on the couch for a moment, feeling glad as my husband cooks Saturday night dinner.  Watching evening fall as people bike home outside the open windows.  People talk so much about food around here.  Vegan, vegetarian, organic, grass-fed, low-fat, low-carb, gluten-free, sugar-free, hormone-free…the mind reels.  People eat so many different ways for so many different reasons, it makes my head spin to try to sort it out.

And now dinner is done and set before me smelling so good.  I’m so glad we eat in this world.  I’m glad I have food.

Good night!

Dear winter,

March is less than a week away, and though you are a time period, not a conscious being, I want to be sure to say thank you before I get caught up in my excitement for spring.

You were so beautiful this year with your piles of snow, cold wind, and icy trees. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so stunning. It’s hasn’t been the best weather for sitting outside, but that’s part of why I like you so much. I like how the streets get quiet when you’re here. The introvert in me delights in the solitude you bring to this lively town. With you, there is always so much space to think and be quiet and alone. Thank you for that.

Thank you for turning my cheeks pinks when I walk to work and giving me the chance to bundle up in soft mittens and wool coats. I like how good warm things feel when you are around: fireplaces, heat vents, hot soup, and roasted winter vegetables. I like not having to wince about turning on the oven. If it wasn’t for you, my homemade bread wouldn’t have improved nearly as much as it did the last few months.

I am glad you exist, winter. I’ve enjoyed you so much this year, and I know that without you, spring wouldn’t taste nearly so sweet. I will drink up the last drops of you, and then see you next year.

Oh, and thank you for that soft pinkish blue light you have.

Always,
Lindsey

(Thank you, God, for wintertime)

Last night I got back from working at a teen retreat. It was a wonderful weekend filled to the brim with amazing people, but, I must say, I am happy to be home from it all. God was very present at that retreat, but I missed so many of the richest ways we relate to each other everyday. Smelling pipe smoke on my hand. Kissing drips of olive oil off my fingertips. Sex. Espresso while it snows. Walking at night. The city early in the morning. Swearing. Curry. Music that I like just because. God wooes me with these things, with the width and richness of the world he has made for us. It’s amazing, isn’t it?

I pulled out of the drive playing music loudly, and have been hungry ever since. Hungry for sleep, olives, and cool, fresh air. Can you taste it? What do you taste?

After apple-picking, we ate strips of roasted sweet potato sprinkled with brown sugar and drank cider. And then it was apple crisp with a bit of Monica’s apple butter baked into it, full of flavorful just-picked apples, oats and barley flour. But we didn’t stop there. Adam pulled out two acorn squash and roasted them with butter and farmer’s market honey.

I think autumn must be the most delicious time of year. Do you think so?

*********edit*********

The Deliciousness:

The apples were so good and encompassed autumn so perfectly in their thin round skin, that when I bit into one on my work break, I wanted to run back inside and have everyone try a bite.

The sweet potatoes were salty and crunchy and soft and sweet; I wanted to eat them all day.

The apple cider was thick and foggy and dark and full of flavor without being too sweet.

I really dig the barley flour in the apple crisp crumble.  And every apple in there had a slightly different taste, which kept my happy tastebuds guessing.

The acorn squash we picked up at the farm where we picked apples.  Adam cooked it perfectly.  It was my first try at acorn squash and…oh.  yum.

Is that better, Adam?

It’s been a great week. We had a cozy, wonderful honeymoon filled to the brim with long drives and amazing food. We drove up to Door County and stayed at the wonderful (wonderful.) Whistling Swan. Then we scooted across Death’s Door to Washington Island and the Washington Hotel. It’s also a culinary school that focuses on local and organic ingredients, so the food there was awesome. Even just bread (baked from the island’s wheat), butter (good stuff), and milk (so thick and fresh) was an amazing treat I couldn’t seem to get enough of. We also both really liked the quiet island. It was a lovely time.

Unfortunately, upon return, we found that our rental company made a glitch in our lease, so we are currently stuck in the bedroom of Adam’s old apartment filled to the brim with stuff we were planning to move yesterday into our new place. It makes me slightly claustrophobic at times, and hasn’t been a lot of fun in that respect. It’s been ages since I’ve had claustrophobic panic attacks, and I forgot how scary it can be, though, thankfully, these have been very mild.

But tonight, we bought a bottle of sherry to beat the claustrophobia blues. Adam smoked a cigar, and I smoked my pipe while we drank it and talked and watched the long, dark, cool rain fall. There was a soft ease to the evening despite loud music nearby. We delighted together at how the taste of tobacco and sherry melted on our tongues, the slow sips and breaths. The moment was small, but it was very sweet.

I’ve been married a week, and it has been wonderful. I relish the closeness and the safety I find here, the sweetness of being tied so tightly, the joy of embarking on something new and bright. Even as I read my vows and felt their weight in my mouth, I didn’t know that tomorrow would feel so different. I find myself surprised, yet again, by God and this world and this life, surprised by the width and depth of things. I love being surprised.

I wish you all a good night. If it’s raining, I hope it is pattering nicely outside your window while you are falling asleep.

Check it out. Really. Right now. SO interesting!

I am back in Madison and my laptop’s power cord thing is busted. Or so Adam tells me. (note: I am so grateful for my Madison boys: Adam who knows how to fix things and the definitions to obscure words and Eliot my little warrior-mouse-catcher-man and purrbox. What would I do without them?) This is why I haven’t written about vanilla sugar yet or my first day of classes or reflected on Norway or how great Madison is or posted the pictures of that amazing amazing snow or whined about how much I spent on bloody books (I spent around $350 on bloody books…and counting!) or gushed about how great my bloody books are. All in due time.

I returned to the States five days ago and a lot has happened since. At first I spent hours and hours kissing Adam and looking into Eliot’s eyes and telling him how handsom he is. Eliot is so handsom. Adam and I also went shopping, and the boy spoiled me by buying me zillions of Penzey’s spices and the greatest pepper mill ever (which I’m using for the grey sea salt from Penzey’s) as well as the second greatest (I’m using that one for the pepper). He also bought me vanilla sugar. And my life will never be the same.

I’ve had vanilla sugar before, but never such delicious vanilla sugar in such a handy little shaker. It is lovely and wonderful and I don’t intend to live without it. Yesterday, I made too much rice for lunch, so as a sweet afternoon tea treat, I sprinkled it with vanilla sugar and drown it all in milk. And it was so so lovely. And then last night I put it in my hot chocolate and I bathed in it this morning and would have brushed my teeth with it, but that might give me cavities.

2nd great food discovery: Trader Joe’s carries crumpets. And it turns out I like crumpets. I like them a lot.

Yesterday was my first day of classes. I’m taking five this semester and had all of them my first day: 4th semester Norwegian, History of Western Culture: 1300-1850, The African Storyteller, The African Autobiography, and Creative Writing: Fiction and Poetry Workshop. I was worn out by the end of it (and still am recovering from all that brainy stuff moving in my head). But I love my classes. I love love love them. I wish they were food so I could mix them together to make blueberry pie and sit down with a fork and gobble them. I have a feeling that these classes are going to be a lot of work. There is a lot to read, and I’m actually going to want to read it all and not slack off. It may be the death of me. It’ll be great.

Speaking of reading, I better get to it! I hope you’re having some sweet days and I hope you by some vanilla sugar and sprinkle it in your coffee.

*Oh. I almost forgot food discovery #3. Adam and I went on an obscure madison market tour and bought pocky sticks and green tea mochi balls at a little Asian market. After enthusiastic consumption of the mochi ice cream and a deep longing for more, we discovered that Trader Joe’s carries them. Adam bought one of every flavor. I heart mochi.*

Karl Johans Gata- The big shopping/walking street in Oslo. It’s like State Street, but it’s much bigger, has a three story H&M and not many crazies. I miss the crazies.

Yesterday, I took some time to go shopping for gifts for my family and Adam. Naturally, I went to Karl Johan’s Gata because I know how to get there and it’s pretty and I know that there is a three story H&M. And of course I went to that three story H&M. And, let me tell you, it beats the pants off of any H&M I’ve been to in the States (particularly the two I’ve been to in WI). And that’s not just because Norway is ahead of us in fasion, because to tell you the truth, I’m not to thrilled with the styles that are coming our way- particularly the tight jeans. I just got new jeans. I like the little flarey things we wear. And all the way down tight jeans? Just not very flattering on me. If I have to buy new jeans sometime soon, why couldn’t the funky baggy girl jeans come back in? Those were kind of cool. I hope that this tight jean business doesn’t hit the States as hard as it did here, because I may have to sit this one out.

On the way back, one cappuccino, one kanelboller, and zero gift purchases later, I decided to take the scenic route. The light was too beautiful to miss. And I found myself accidentally at the dear antique bookstore I stumbled upon several days ago the night it was snowing (I can’t believe I’ve been in Oslo for several days, it’s gone so quickly). It’s the best bookstore I’ve ever been in; it’s a tiny little place tucked away on the corner of a quiet little street and has the mustiest, dustiest, bookiest smell ever. The little man who owns it has white hair and glasses. He tries to keep it tidy, but there are just too many books and they spill over the maze of crowded shelves into stacks on the floor and the windowsills and you find yourself always having to step over them. It’s wonderful.

I took the scenic route home from there- wandering all about. And I found wonderful wonderful graffiti:

When I got home, I made brownies and we ate them warm with ice cream on top in the apartment above the H&M underwear store. I love the way Norwegian ice cream melts. Very different from the melting of American ice cream. It was a wonderful day.