Cornbread makes my face turn into that heart-eyed emoji that I use like every single day of my life to express myself. I sort of wish I could write a whole blog post in emojis because today is one of those days when I feel like I have nothing to say. Do you have those days? When you’re sort of like, here’s a recipe for such and such BYEEEE!
This week has been hot hot in Los Angeles and I’ve been avoiding my oven like the plague. The only that that could even remotely tempt me is this cornbread because it’s more like cake than bread. And I’m not mad about that.
I know southerners are super finnicky about their cornbread but I like mine this way: a little sweet, a little spicy and soft. I like to use corn flour over corn meal. It’s more fluffy and soft. If you can’t find corn flour, by all means, use cornmeal—it’ll work. I’ve been searching for a recipe for cornbread that’s more cake like and when I found this one, I figured it would probably need a ton of work, but it’s kind of perfect.
Today is National Big Ass Doughnut Day, did you know that?!
You didn’t know that because it’s not. I would just like it to be. Or maybe I’m just tired of reading about anything national day and this is my way of being a brat about it.
Regardless, there’s a big doughnut just waiting to be made. It starts with a big doughnut pan set. I know. It sucks but it really does require a special pan. A bundt pan will do in a pinch. Luckily, the pan is pretty cheap.
Another thing that is required (yet fun) are homemade BIG sprinkles. Because a big doughnut needs sprinkles that are appropriate in size. So, let’s make homemade sprinkles. Of course, if you’re feeling especially lazy, you can just pour da regular kind on. NO SHAME!
I doubled my chocolate baked doughnut recipe and followed the ratios for the recipe for sprinkles from Food52. If you’ve never made sprinkles before, they are about a million times easier than you would think.
I’m currently battling the worst summer thing ever: the summer cold. Is there anything worse? Yes, there is. But this sucks. All I want to do is lay in bed right now and wrap myself in covers but then I get hot and frustrated and want some iced tea.
This carrot cake comes from earlier this week when I was psycho enough to turn on the oven. I actually turn on the oven all the time because it’s sort of my job, but you get the idea! My mantra is this: don’t turn on the oven for anything that isn’t fun to eat.
Yep. Time to slather on that sun tan lotion, squeeze into a bathing suit :/ and eat all the watermelon available.
Summer has never been my season. I’m more of a fall leaves, scarves kind of girl (even though I live in LA, I know I’m complicated) but this is how I embrace the season: cakes that require no oven. Cakes that aren’t really cakes! Because there’s no batter, no icing, no nothing cake-like. Except this recipe relies on cookies to soak up all the mascarpone/coffee/chocolate mixture and then it slices up so lovely, so deliciously.
This cake is very tiramisu-like. The flavors are v v similar except you don’t have to both with lady fingers, which if I’m speaking honestly, is the biggest bummer about tiramisu. Most lady fingers are dry and bland and taste like cardboard. Of course, we could make our own but am I really going to do that??! I mean, maybe, yes, very likely. I am the type…stand-by maybe we’ll do this.
This cake is up on da blog. Which means I’m officially out of a slump (I think). I feel like there’s been this little emoji cloud hanging above me as I walk around.
I flunked at making yeasted biscuits. They were boring and bland and made me fall asleep because I hated them so much. I burned rhubarb jam because I was distracted with texting. The carrot soup I made was just ok, but not anything that wooed me. And then this cake exited the oven and I was like….deng…bowchicabowowow.
I feel like it’s a cross between sexy and demure. Like, a girl who can work a stripper pole but who is then capable of putting on a dress and sit in church (or temple, whatever you’re into to) nicely, quietly, prettily. Think of it like a V dimensional cake. She is capable of that 360 life.
I’ve just binge-watched the entire eighth season of The Voice and I am in love with Gwen Stefani more than I was as a teenager, which is a crazy amount. I wish I was a singer just so I could try out for the voice with the hope she would want me on her team. But if I’m being honest, no one should hear me sing, EVER. Amelia hears me sing all day long and surprisingly she loves it (I think).
Oddly enough, I’m the worst singer in the world, but I love, LOVE karaoke. I don’t love to participate in karaoke, I just love to watch it. And here in LA, the land of Hollywood and fame and music, the karaoke bars are filled with people who moved here to become famous singers.
There was this one place in Hollywood I used to visit all the time called Miyagi’s; it was behind a Denny’s, attached to a bad sushi restaurant. No one ate sushi there but people loved singing karaoke at the bar.
The singers were incredible. There was the Asian dude who sang Guns and Roses ONLY (and he’d actually wear a Slash wig); there was this beautiful African American woman that sounded like India Aire but better; there was the guy from the mid-west who sounded like Frank Sinatra but looked like a surfer; and there was the MC who had been there since the 80s. The place was magical.
It was filled with people who had sort of given up on their dream; most of them had day jobs doing other things that they were ok with but they’d come to Miyagi’s to sing, because they couldn’t not.
One of the things I want to do in 2015 is push myself toward new adventures. I know that sounds sort of cheesy and dumb but I really want to make new things.
Most of us love doing what we do well. Me included. Being sucky at something doesn’t feel that great.
On my list is a whole variety of things I want to be better at, including but not limited to, decorating cakes. I feel like I can crimp a pie, I got that! But decorating cakes…oof…not so much. Cake decorating requires a ton of practice. A TON. So, consider this my first example of what I want to get better at.
Izy’sbook arrived in my mailbox a looooong time ago, nearly a month ago. I’ve been waiting to cook from it because when it showed up on my doorstep, it was only available for purchase in the UK (it’s available tomorrow!), and it just so happened to be the opposite of fall in LA.
But on Saturday, all I wanted to do was bake. The weather was brisk, the light sorta cloudy and moody and I was particularly in a good mood. The kind of mood I’m in is a result of Amelia letting me sleep in, a little.
As I thumbed through her book, deciding amongst all the beautiful baked goods what I should dive into, I was stopped at this Swedish Chocolate Cake. I’ve been on a weird brownie kick lately, so much so that I’m totally guilty of falling victim to the lure of a box mix at Whole Foods. No shame in that game; though that game often results in a bit of disappointment. There shouldn’t be any leavening in brownies, I’ve decided. I want them to be gooey! and rich! So rich that a glass of water needs to be served along side them.
I met Jessica a few years ago (gulp, maybe 3 years ago?), and she’s always been one of my favorite people in the food blogging community. Her recipes are fun, FUN!; her personality in person is exactly the same as her blog; and her photos make me want to leap into the computer screen and eat EVERYTHING she makes.
This book, Seriously Delish, is very much her in book form. Her personality shines through, there are tons of enchilada recipes (thank you, Jessica!) and the food looks slutty and gorgeous all at the same time.
It’s a keeper of a book. And I have a feeling I’ll be gifting it a lot this upcoming holiday season, which I don’t want to really believe is almost around the corner. Please, let’s not say the H-Word, T-Word or C-Word for a while. I can’t deal.
Amelia is officially a year old. And in human years that translates to seven big ones. She’s basically a second grader. I’ve learned quite a bit from raising a three-month old corgi until now…
I’m no dog mama pro but here are a few things I’ve learned:
1. Corgis bark A LOT. Amelia grumbles at me when I tell her “no.” She talks back. She has attitude. She can be a jerk sometimes. We get in a lot of mother/daughter arguments. I honestly had no idea that you could argue with a dog until she came into my life.
2. There’s nothing worse for a dog than being left alone. This is their worst nightmare. This is torture. They’re the clingiest, neediest friends you could ever have. Their desperation is borderline embarrassing. And yet their neediness is what I love the most. Does this make me a sad person?