Posted: September 28, 2011 | Author: Annie | Filed under: adversity, baking, breakfast, cookies, cranberries, family, flour, oats, sugar |
I have spent the last two years grappling with a particular fear.
You could argue (and you wouldn’t be the first) that my fear is essentially unfounded, and that the odds of the thing that I dread actually coming to pass are so minimal that what I am feeling could more accurately be described as paranoia; but nevertheless, it’s there:
I am afraid of being attacked by predators in our local park.
The park is vast and beautiful, and I used to spend hours upon hours there. From the time of my first pregnancy, I have run through it, walked around it, thrown sticks for the dog, eaten ice cream, fed ducks, visited the zoo, gone sledding, and all around revelled in that park.
It’s part of the reason that we chose to live in this neighbourhood, and it’s full to bursting with memories of happy moments.
I could not have imagined a time when my children and I would not while away a large part of our days there, until two years ago, when a dear friend was attacked and killed by predators in the kind of freak encounter that makes international headlines. It didn’t happen in our park, but, to my mind, it could have.
So, to keep myself safe, I have skirted around it – the park, the grief, the horror. I just don’t go there. My running route takes me well around it, and I visit smaller playgrounds with my kids. Instead of the zoo, we take the car to a farm across town.
I don’t think it’s been so bad. But I have been feeling, lately, that something has to give.
So this morning, I met up with another dear friend of mine who has been grappling with some rather weighty concerns of her own. It was pitch dark and pouring rain, and we walked her dog all through that park, chatting all the while. It was wet and muddy and intense, and I was afraid, but mostly it was great.
I loved reconnecting with her, and getting back to a place that has meant so much to me.
It was a start.
I slipped in the door to the sound of my children laughing and the smell of cookies baking in the oven, and not long after that, the sun came out on the most glorious fall day we’ve had yet.
I can’t wait to do it again.
Oatmeal Breakfast Cookies
1c light spelt flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp sea salt
3 tsp cinnamon
2 tsp ground ginger
6 tbsp. melted coconut oil – or other light-tasting vegetable oil
1 1/2c unsweetened apple sauce
1/2c brown sugar
grated zest of 2 oranges
1 tbsp vanilla
3c large flake oats
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment.
In a small bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and ginger. Set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, beat together eggs, oil apple sauce, and brown sugar. Stir in zest, vanilla, oats, and craisins. Add flour mixture and stir well to combine.
Drop heaping quarter cupfuls of dough onto prepared baking sheets, and flatten cookies slightly with a fork. Bake, one sheet at a time, about 20 minutes, or until lightly browned. Cool completely on baking sheets.
Makes 16-18 cookies.
Posted: April 20, 2010 | Author: Annie | Filed under: breakfast, eggs, quick, stress, sugar |
Is there anything worse than the flu bugs you get from a baby?
I know, I know, of course there is.
But at this moment, eyes and nose streaming, ears clogged, throat raw, sleep-deprived and generally miserable as I am, I am finding it hard to keep some perspective.
In fact, I am so miserable that there is really only one thing I am willing to eat – and it is pictured above.
This silken, soothing custard is the ultimate comfort food to me, and my childhood dish of choice when anything really unbearable came my way.
Give me this, and some hot water with lemon and lots of honey (no whiskey, I promise), and I may live to see another day.
Baked Vanilla Custard
adapted from the Laura Secord Canadian Cookbook
1 tsp vanilla
a sprinkling of nutmeg
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Boil a kettleful of water. Lightly grease a one-litre ovenproof dish.
Combine milk and sugar in a saucepan over medium heat and whisk until milk is very warm (do not bring to a boil, or you will have a curdled mess rather than a silken dreamy thing to eat) and sugar dissolved.
In a large mixing bowl, whisk together eggs an vanilla. Pour milk mixture into egg mixture, whisking constantly.
Pour custard into prepared dish, and sprinkle with nutmeg. Place dish in a roasting pan and place in the oven; pour boiled water into the roasting pan, until it reaches half way up the sides of the custard dish.
Bake 25-35 minutes, until almost set. Remove custard from roasting pan and leave it to cool, in its dish, as long as you can. It might be marginally better cold, but I never get that far.
Serves two greedy people.