cake · dessert · easy · Fruit · gluten free · jam · peanut butter · quick · vegetarian · Yummy

PB & J Mug Cake

I am having a lot of life changes lately. Lots of good things, but it’s A LOT. One of those exciting things is a booth at my local farmer’s market! I decided to inquire about selling baked goods at a tiny farmer’s market 2 blocks from my apartment. I didn’t want to start with one of the big ones, as that felt really fucking overwhelming. Plus, I wasn’t sure they’d accept me being so new to the scene. So I chose the perfect, supportive little church-run market. Of course, I didn’t know I’d choose one that was run by a church when I decided on the name of my booth. I purchased the name Eat Me Bakery, LLC in January thinking it was cheeky and fun (I mean, it is).

 

When I got a call back from the person in charge of the farmer’s market last week, he was extremely encouraging in almost every aspect. Once we were winding down the conversation, and it was looking promising that I was going to be accepted, he said he had to discuss something kind of uncomfortable. He prefaced by saying that he was not the only one with concerns, and proceeded to ask if my name was “set in stone.” I was hoping my name would slide by unnoticed, since it could also be considered an Alice in Wonderland reference, but I wasn’t fooling anyone. I’m also a terrible liar, so there was no way I was going to try to convince him that it was anything other than the crude phrase that it clearly was. So I’m looking for a new name! Something rated G, but nothing too sweet. And I’ll hold onto Eat Me Bakery, since it’s still a fucking great idea. It just needs a different venue, and that’s okay. The organizer of the farmer’s market was a great sport about the whole thing, assuring me that he understood the name was just meant to be playful, but that it also wasn’t appropriate for this setting. That’s completely fair.

IMG_20190326_165914.jpg

 

IMG_20190326_170459.jpg

Something I’d like to sell at my booth is peanut butter and jelly sandwich cookies. I haven’t had time to play with the recipe yet, so I did something quick today with those same flavors. Peanut butter and jelly is my favorite flavor combination. I am baffled by the lack of options outside of an elementary school cafeteria. I mean, why aren’t there cookies and donuts and muffins full of these flavors??? And they could be done in SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS. The mind reels. So many missed opportunities. I was fucking psyched when I discovered this mug cake recipe on Food52’s website. I needed something simple and sweet today to counter all the salty as fuck meat my body has been craving for the last 24 hours. Yes, I gave into the meat for 2 meals. I’m mostly a vegetarian, but I do have my moments. Not that I need to justify myself to anyone, because I fucking don’t (I’m talking to you, Hannah). This little mug cake was the perfect fix. It’s gooey and rich, with light sweetness from the jelly. I used triple berry jam made locally, but any cheap grape jelly would work perfectly well. Pick your favorite flavor, and go nuts (ha!).

This cake is unintentionally gluten-free, too!

 

PB & J Mug Cake

4 tablespoons peanut butter

1 tablespoon dark brown sugar

1 egg

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

A pinch of salt

2 tablespoons jelly/jam (any flavor)

I used a small bowl to mix everything, so I had enough room to make sure all the ingredients were incorporated well. You could opt to mix everything in the mug/jar as well. Start by mixing everything except the jelly. Stir/whisk until smooth. Add a tablespoon of jelly and swirl into the batter (without fully incorporating). My jelly was actually jam, and quite thick. I ended up kind of cutting it into the batter, so little chunks of jam remained. That way you get little pockets of jam, which is fucking delightful. Pour everything into a mug or 1/2 pint mason jar. Add another tablespoon of jam on top, pressed lightly right into the top of the batter. Microwave for 50-60 seconds. Sift a little powdered sugar on top if you’re feelin’ fancy. Let cool for a couple of minutes. Then SHOVEL INTO YOUR FACE.

IMG_20190326_170641.jpg

baking · dessert · easy · Fruit · vegetarian · Yummy

Blueberry French Flan and Snoring

Fun fact: I snore. Not in the cute, soft not-really-snoring kind of way. I SNORE. Like a goddamn freight train. It’s loud and weird, and I’m far too cute to be making such noises. T recorded it per my request the other day, and it was legit like listening to an alien. How could that noise be coming out of my body?! It was truly terrifying.

I have always snored to some extent, but it has dramatically worsened in the last few months. This led to meeting with a sleep specialist last week, since T is having trouble sleeping and keeps nudging me awake, sending me into a murderous rage. She gave me the following facts about my body: my tongue and uvula are very large, my airway is very small, and my neck circumference is perfection. The first two facts make me at risk for sleep apnea, and the third fact is something I’ve never considered, but is something that I now like to throw in other people’s faces.

IMG_20181111_164416.jpg

So… she recommended an overnight sleep study. Not only that, but (lucky me!), they had a cancellation that very evening. Have any of y’all ever done a sleep study? Turns out it’s not actually in a room full of other snorers being watched by doctors, like it was imagined in my head. It also never occurred to me how many wires would be attached to my body. I had something like 20 electrodes attached to my head, all connected to a small machine they hung on my bed. There were also a few attached to my legs, as well as two bands around my torso to measure my respiratory rate, and various things taped to my face. It took the nurse a good 45 minutes to get me all hooked up. Then he left the room and spoke to me through a speaker on the wall, instructing me to do things like look right and left, up and down, breath deeply, and make snoring noises. There was a tiny microphone taped to my chin to catch every single noise I made.

The entire night was spent not trying to accidentally pull off any electrodes. I guess I was only mildly successful, since a nurse had to come in to reattach one in the middle of the night. I did pop an Ambien, because there was no fucking way I was going to fall asleep naturally with all that shit attached to me.

I’d post a picture, but I just can’t handle the whole internet having access to that. A few people in my life got to see it. The rest of the internet can fuck off. The whole thing was pretty horrible, but I guess I should feel lucky to have the means to do such a thing (ugh, I just want to complain about it, though!). Turns out I don’t have sleep apnea. They don’t know why I snore – probably my fucking tiny airway and monstrous tongue getting in the way. Who knows.

IMG_20181111_164423.jpg

I have decided to cut down on dairy, especially before bed, and make sure to eat at least 2 hours prior to laying down. That means no French flan as a late night snack. Le sigh.

I took a French baking class a few weeks ago, and learned that flan is one of the easiest things to throw together when you have “unexpected company.” This is so funny to me, because if I have unexpected company it is generally no one I’m interested in seeing, and would therefore never make them a fancy French dessert. I’d probably not even answer the door. I’d just turn the lights off and be very quiet until they fucked right off.

IMG_20181111_164411.jpg

Blueberry French Flan

4 eggs

2/3 cup sugar

2/3 cup flour

3 tablespoons butter, melted

1 cup milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 pound frozen blueberries (or fruit of choice), thawed, rinsed and drained

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk eggs for a minute, then slowly add in sugar while continuing to whisk. Sprinkle in the flour and stir until fully incorporated. Add the melted butter (make sure it’s not too hot, so let it sit for awhile before adding) and mix well. Slowly mix in the milk and vanilla.

I used a 9″ pie pan, but you  can use any dish that is relatively the same size. Grease the pan. Toss berries with a little flour and place in the greased pie pan. Pour batter over the berries. Bake for about 45 minutes. It rises like crazy, and doesn’t look particularly beautiful, but it’s really delicious. Allow to cool for 20-30 minutes before serving. It will deflate during this time, and end up looking even weirder. Just trust me. Serve while still slightly warm.

Tell your boyfriend that you make delicious desserts, therefore he should just let you snore.

baking · breakfast · brunch · comfort food · Dating · dessert · easy · Fruit · jam · pie · snacks · Tarts · travel · vacation · vegetarian

Strawberry Rhubarb Tarts

I texted Cortney today, “I miss you. I want to come visit and drink iced coffee in the rocking chairs. Then we can go for a swim at our beach.” She responded with, “I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

Don’t have a lid for your sauce pan? Just cover with another pan! Lids are for rich people.

The rocking chairs are special for us. They’re all along the front porch of the Moana Hotel in Waikiki. Cortney took me there on my first trip to Oahu 2 years ago because it’s a great spot for people watching. I had ordered iced coffee from the coffee shop attached to the hotel and impulsed a few macaroons as well. We settled into our chairs with our fancy cookies and proceeded to check out all the hot people that walked by, having one of our many epic conversations. That experience stuck out to me. It’s silly, because we also went snorkeling and hiking and touring and did a million other amazing Hawaiian things. This was just one random morning. But for some reason, every time I think about visiting her again, I imagine those rocking chairs.

20170618_19305320170619_063840

During my most recent visit we recreated it. It was the morning after my second date with the guy. I refused to tell her anything about it until we were comfortably seated in our chairs with iced coffee and macaroons. She was dying. Keep in mind, Cortney has never met the guy. He is merely a friend of a friend. She didn’t actually have a clue how our dates were going to go, or if he was going to be a crazy person that sends unsolicited dick pics. For all she knew, he could have been a fucking murderer. Honestly, it’s mostly just dumb luck that I’m not dead right now. Okay, I’m being dramatic, but after my Tinder experiences I have become a little (understandably) guarded. So we sat down in our beautiful wooden rocking chairs, taking bites of our tropical flavored macaroons, and I finally launched into the story about the night before, when I discovered that I had found someone incredible. And we did what Cortney and I do best… we talked it all out. She let me gush, and then offered up her thoughts/feelings/encouragement. She allowed me to be unapologetically myself, just like she always does (and what I try to always do for her), and encouraged me to feel all my feelings. While I skipped zero details with Cortney (often starting statements with, “This is a little TMI, but….”), I will skip almost all of the details with you, dear readers. Just know that this person made me feel like I was enough, just as I am… in all of my very human glory.

(Side note: He’s coming to visit me next week. “Excited” is an understatement.)

When Cortney visited last fall, we made hand pies. This is a variation of that, but better (in my opinion). The only annoying part is the fucking dough. All the freezing of shit and the waiting. I’m not great at waiting (duh). It turns out that it’s worth the wait, and it’s easy as fuck to make. Get on it, y’all. You won’t be sorry.

20170619_063824

Strawberry Rhubarb Tarts (inspired by Smitten Kitchen)

1 1/2 pounds rhubarbs stalks (or approx. 6-10 stalks depending on size), cleaned and trimmed of leaves/dirty ends

1 cup dark brown sugar

a splash of vanilla

2ish tablespoons strawberry jam (Thanks, Stacy!)

Slice rhubarb in half, length-wise, and then chop in approximately 3/4″ pieces. You should have about 4 1/2 cups, but it doesn’t have to be exact. Set aside 1 1/2 cups. Combine 3 cups of the chopped rhubarb with the brown sugar and vanilla in a sauce pan on the stove over medium-low heat. Cover and let sit for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. It should become pretty saucy. Uncover and increase heat to medium, cooking for another 10-15 minutes, or until the sauce thickens and causes the spoon to leave a trail at the bottom of the pan. Once finished, stir in the strawberry jam, letting it melt in. Finally, add in the remaining 1 1/2 cups of rhubarb. Pour into a bowl and set in refrigerator until cool.

For the crust: follow instructions from Fruit Hand Pies. Except you’ll just put a scoop of the filling in the center of a piece of dough and mush the sides up around it. It’s like a little bowl for jam… that you can eat!

Place them on a greased cookie sheet (or cake pan!) and bake at 350 degrees for about 40 minutes. This should make about 8-10 tarts. I only had enough rhubarb for 4 tarts. Then I ate one before the final photo, which is why there are only 3 finished tarts. Fuck it. I’m human, and I was hungry/had a craving. My only regret is that I didn’t make more.

apple · baking · breakfast · brunch · comfort food · Cookies · Dating · dessert · easy · Fruit · jam · pie · vegetarian

Fruit Hand Pies

Okay, the online dating continues… errr… it was continuing. Then I decided that I hated everyone and deleted it. Okay, so here’s the thing… the guys I was meeting on Bumble would start out being very nice, but almost 100% of them would think it is okay to say something sexual to me before we even met. And then they’d get pissed and tell me to loosen up when I would fucking call them out on it. When we’re in the middle of talking about how we both like cooking, it is not appropriate for you to say, “It’s fun to cook with another person, but it turns me on when a woman cooks, so that’s a problem.” I’m sorry, what? Are you telling me that you can’t get through cooking with someone because you’ll get too horny? I don’t even know you. Gross. This shit is not okay. And when I called him out on it, he went on to say how he jokes like that with his friends all the time, and that it’s not a big deal because he’s just joking around. I think he was forgetting the fact that (again)…. I DON’T FUCKING KNOW HIM. How the fuck am I supposed to take a comment like that? We’re not friends… I don’t know his personality yet. We’d been chatting on a dating app for all of 10 minutes. Fuck. Get it together. Needless to say, he “unmatched” me for calling him out on his douche bag behavior.

So I decided that I’m done. I was getting really stressed out trying to fit dates into my schedule anyway. And the guys on the app were so aggressive about meeting immediately. I just don’t have time for that shit. I have 3 jobs, plus all the yoga classes to attend, and some amazing friends that I’d rather be spending time with than strangers that may or may not offend me within moments of meeting. I’m taking a break.

Last Sunday I decided to spend the entire day doing yoga, which is something I used to do every Sunday, but haven’t been able to in the last 2ish months. It felt so amazing to just spend the whole day doing exactly what I wanted to be doing, and not having any responsibilities. And I got to do Acro for several hours at the park! This is me in my happy place…

I made these hand pies when Cortney was visiting. My amazing friend (and Acro teacher!) Alyssa gave me the recipe. She wrote it down for me, but didn’t know specifics about timing/measurements for a lot of it. I made 3 batches, but one of them ended up more like cookie dough (I added too much sugar), which was actually awesome (according to Cortney), so I’ll share that mistake in the recipe below as an option. This recipe could easily be made into savory pies, too… just leave out the sugar.

Fruit Hand Pies

For the crust:

1 cup flour (optional: substitute 1/4 of the flour for 1/4 cup sugar)

1 stick butter, frozen

2 tablespoons sugar

Ice cold water

For the filling:

Follow the filling instructions from the apple pie blog post (found here), but cut it down to about 1/4 of the recipe. Once mixed, refrigerate until cool.

For the raspberry filling, it is just equal parts raspberries to sugar (start with 1 cup of each). Boil that until it’s a thickish sauce. You’ll also want to add a few fresh berries to the filling, so make sure to save a little! Refrigerate until cool.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grate the butter with a cheese grater. Throw the grated butter into a bowl, and stick it in the freezer for an hour. After the hour, mix the flour and sugar with the butter, then slowly add ice water until it reaches a dough-like consistency (about 1/4 cup). Wrap the dough in plastic wrap, and freeze for another hour.

Flour a surface and roll dough out pretty thin (thinner than regular pie dough… use your best judgement). Cut into squares, circles, rectangles, or any shape that speaks to you. Scoop some (cold) filling onto half of the square of dough, and fold it over, pressing a fork into the edges to seal it. Sprinkle with a little more sugar, and bake on a greased cookie sheet for about 40-50 minutes (until they are golden brown). Bring them to your local Acro jam (don’t know what that is? Check out AcroYoga Minneapolis)!

Also, serve this warm with ice cream. I didn’t do that, and I’m sad about it every day.

 

breakfast · easy · Fruit · gluten free · healthy · quick · Smoothie · snacks · vegan · vegetarian

Berry Banana Smoothie

I’m officially signed up to teach a class at two yoga studios.

Holy shit.

My anxiety likes to chime in here and say, “Who do you think you are? You don’t know enough to teach other people.” To which I usually respond with, “Fuck OFF.” Anxiety can be such an asshole sometimes. Besides, I like to think my lack of skill will only make me more relatable as a teacher. I mean, who wants a teacher that’s perfect at everything anyway?

I joke about it, but I’m actually completely terrified to teach. Downright petrified. I can’t even get into a headstand without a wall behind me. Sigh.

One of my amazing friends was visiting from California this week and last week. We got to spend 2 1/2 luxurious days together, doing all the yoga, drinking champagne, and eating donuts. Those are basically my 3 favorite things. I got to practice teaching with her at the park, where we took some amazing/hilarious photos. I also particularly enjoyed going to a yoga class together, and then immediately hitting up the donut shop around the corner (while carrying our yoga mats). Clearly, I’m not one of those vegan/gluten free/no sugar/raw/all natural yogis. I do what I want.

This is the face of a future yoga teacher:

13516583_10107788592085960_717889632943239105_n

Here’s the pose done as correctly as I am able:

13501647_10107789197362980_5167355093227858066_n

She got to try out Acro with me, too! I based her in her first Acro pose. I wish there was photographic evidence of this. Or, even better, video. There was a lot of squealing involved. I also helped her get into a headstand for the first time, which also involved a lot of squealing.

Anyway, I’ve been into smoothies lately because it was crazy hot a couple weeks ago, and I was tired of sweating before 8am. I usually do the banana peanut butter one that I’ve already blogged about, but sometimes I like to switch it up a little. This is one variation.

Also, it has come to my attention that my meals have become quite carb-heavy since switching to vegetarianism. If anyone has any suggestions as to how I can add extra protein and reduce my need to rely on carbs, I’d appreciate it. I don’t know how to cook lentils or quinoa properly, either, so I’ll be working on that in blog posts coming up. Right now I’m mostly relying on pasta, rice, and pizza dough (I know… .try not to judge me). Send me vegetarian recipes that you like, please!

Berry Banana Smoothie

1 banana

1/4 cup frozen mixed berries

1/4 cup orange juice

1/4 cup almond milk

1 tablespoon chia seeds

1 tablespoon flaxseed meal

2 dates (optional – for added sweetness)

1 tablespoon pumpkin seeds (optional – for added protein and iron)

Throw it all in a blender, and blend until smooth. Sip slowly on a hot day, enjoying the fact that you’re not covered in sweat immediately after showering.

breakfast · easy · Fruit · gluten free · healthy · peanut butter · quick · Smoothie · snacks · vegan · Yummy

Eva’s Peanut Butter Banana Smoothie

I’m constantly trying to be healthier. This is contradicted by my excessive cookie and donut consumption (not to mention my drinking), but I do the best I can (no I don’t).

I have developed this habit of eating snacks instead of meals lately. I don’t know how this happened… I’ve never been the type of person to substitute a snack for a meal. I mean, more food versus less food? More food always wins. The other night I literally ate a handful of tortilla chips before collapsing into bed. Since when does 150 calories of chips count as a meal to me? It’s all very confusing.

Today for lunch, I ate half of a veggie wrap. HALF. I’ve never eaten half of anything. Except a pizza. I always eat half a pizza.

This may not surprise anyone, but I’m a recovering binge eater. I didn’t have the words to describe what I was doing until about a year ago, but I’ve known that I “emotional eat” occasionally (or, when I was in college, a LOT). It’s been mostly under control for the last few years, but I still indulge a lot (which is not the same as a full on binge). This eating half of something, and saving the rest for later is completely new. I’ve done that on occasion, but not without it being a real struggle for me. Lately, I’ve actually been recognizing when I’m full, and then (gasp) not eating any more. 

When did I become such a balanced human being?

I’m wondering if it has to do with all the yoga, and being more aware and accepting of my body. This is why I’m so adamant about loving your body, and encouraging others to love their bodies. There’s no one way to look. We’re all different, and there is nothing wrong with that. Shaming each other only creates anxiety and eating disorders. No one really wants to cause that for someone else, right? Unless you’re a real asshole. In which case, go fuck yourself. I’m not listening to you.

20160511_085417

I also used to obsessively count calories, which I realize contradicts a binge eating disorder, but is true nonetheless. One of my go-to foods during the calorie counting phase (do “phases” last for years?!) was this banana peanut butter smoothie. My friend (and former cafe coworker), Eva, made it for me. Her original recipe is a bit simpler, but this is still a very quick “meal,” and I’ve added some more nutritional value (back then I was only worried about it being the least amount of calories possible). I no longer pay attention to caloric intake, but choose to eat whatever I want in moderation. And I always try to add extra nutrients to my food via chia seeds, flax seed, nuts, an added veggie, etc.

Also, sometimes I want mac and cheese for dinner… and that means I get to have it. Anyone who says otherwise can fuck off.

20160511_085114

Eva’s Peanut Butter Banana Smoothie

1 banana (or two, for added creaminess)

6ish large ice cubes

1/2 cup almond milk

1 large spoonful of peanut butter (This is something I used to measure obsessively – don’t do that! Just throw in a big spoonful and be happy!)

1 tablespoon flax seed meal

1 tablespoon chia seeds

Throw it all in a blender, and blend until smooth. Sometimes I add berries. Sometimes I omit the peanut butter and add a lot of berries, and some OJ. Do what you want.

Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not awesome just the way you are.