Currently viewing the tag: "blackberries"

blackberry buns
I’m in my cozy home, sipping hot coffee, listening to the rain fall gently on my roof top. A Thanksgiving Day to-do list is started before me, as well as a mile-long work list that naturally I’m avoiding. I move to my web browser, and read two news articles that project fear and anxiety; my stomach is in permanent knots lately. I gaze out the window, lost in thought. I imagine I’m on a rollar coaster of sorts, and while it’s driving me up and down gigantic hills and looping me upside down, I’m not sure if it stops all nice and neat where I got on, or if it flies off the rails into some great abyss where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.

I laugh at how dramatic I can be. I move to facebook, and find my inbox filled with notes from hurting friends and family. I drink my coffee, even with the tears falling into each sip. Suddenly it’s 1987 and there is a sleepy little me on a Sunday morning, slouching on a cold, metal fold-up chair. I am scheming how I can get my mom to let me go to the bathroom one more time during this never-ending sermon, where I will then read my Nancy Drew mystery (secretly tucked away in my pastel purple purse), if only for 10 more minutes. Verses fall all around me as I plot my escape. I shake my head, slightly annoyed, as the words whisper to both the 10-year old and the 39-year old, ‘love your neighbor as yourself.’ That old, over-used line seems to have lost all meaning, and the sentence doesn’t make sense to me in this moment. I find myself saying it out loud, chanting it slowly again and again while I write on my list: turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, rolls, stuffing, cranberries, pumpkin pie, corn. Apple pie! Chocolate cake, too! I imagine my table piled high with so much food, and it seems to multiply in my mind; loaves and fishes with a 20-pound turkey besides, nestled between outstretched hands that overflow with excitement and hope, love and joy.

Here is enough food to feed us, and all our neighbors besides.
rolls9a

picmonkey-image

blackberry buns
I’m teaming up with Julia Turshen and a few other bloggers to help to raise money for No Kid Hungry’s Friendsgiving program. Julia is the author of  Small Victories, a lovely cookbook filled with “simple, achievable recipes” that emphasizes bold-flavored, honest food for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. Julia writes, “This cookbook, like most cookbooks, assumes that whoever is reading it has access to food and not only the desire, but also the time, energy, and means to cook. How great would it be if that were the case for everyone? I firmly believe that if you have the privilege of eating however much you want whenever you want, you should spend some time ensuring that others have the same opportunity.” To learn more and/or give to the campaign, please click here! Let’s not forget to love our neighbors, each and every day.

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hazelnut dacquoise
My new copper beating bowl arrived in the mail, and I immediately took it over to Zoë François‘ house and made her beat white egg whites by hand in it for this post. In between laughing and giving me dirty looks, she made this incredible dacquoise with blackberries and cream. It was so good we couldn’t stop nibbling on it all afternoon (after she made me wash all the dishes in payback).

The meringue base here is on the sweet side, but the hazelnuts incorporated in the layers and tart berries in between balance it perfectly. Zoë mentioned this dessert would also work for Passover (you can check out her Chocolate Caramel Matzo as well), so here’s another dessert option if you celebrate.
hazelnut dacquoise

hazelnut dacquoise

hazelnut dacquoise

copper pots

hazelnut dacquoise

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whole wheat drop biscuits with mixed berries and frangelico | the vanilla bean blog
Usually when the school buses start making their way down my street, summer gives way and makes room for the next season. Fall has always been my favorite time of year, bringing with it the expectancy of change. This year, however, it’s as if Jacob is at the bottom of that heavenly ladder, wrestling fiercely with the angels. Summer is refusing to give up residency, and we have had week after week of sweat and fake air. Jacob wrestled the angel, and the angel was overcome*. Here’s hoping.

So since I’m here in limbo, with a foot in each season, I came up with a dessert that could be, too. Warm, whole wheat drop biscuits speak to me of cozy sweaters and thick blankets, while mixed berries and Frangelico sing of beach waves and late nights on the patio. Whipped cream, of course, works no matter what the weather.
whole wheat drop biscuits with mixed berries and frangelico | the vanilla bean blog
whole wheat drop biscuits with mixed berries and frangelico | the vanilla bean blog
frangelico | the vanilla bean blog
This sponsored post is a collaboration with Frangelico. All opinions are my own (and I honestly enjoy baking and cooking with it). You can check out Frangelico online or on Facebook.
*a line from Bullet the Blue Sky, sung by U2
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Blackberry +  Peach Buttermilk Biscuit Cobbler | Local Milk

It’s the summer of fun! For reasons before mentioned, I am lining up guest posts for this summer. Up next is Beth from {local milk}. Beth has one of my most favorite spaces on the world-wide-web. Her photography is gorgeous; her words make me want to get out that old pen and paper, and write my own sentences just a little better.

“The meaning of life is not to be discovered only after death in some hidden, mysterious realm; on the contrary, it can be found by eating the succulent fruit of the Tree of Life and by living in the here and now as fully and creatively as we can.” – Paul Kurtz

So. I’m the girl that’s going to show up at Sarah’s with an herbacious fruit cobbler, crazy eyes, and a soap box. I think the cobbler will make up for the latter two.

What we’re going to do, we’re going to eat the metaphor, thereby rendering it quite literal. Live now, eat fruit. Eat yellow flesh & fuzz, eat faceted berries popping with seeds. Eat them warm and jammy, with tender crumbs of sweet buttermilk biscuit. This recipe comes straight from my culinary heart, which is, incidentally, a biscuit.

Yes, I have a puffy little lopsided buttermilk biscuit that lives in the center of my rib cage. It’s from this little biscuit that my inspiration flows. It’s a happy biscuit with anime eyes. The squinty kind. It dances, bouncing side to side, and nods its’ biscuit head. Put any ingredient in front of me and the little biscuit ghost, the little holy biscuit…it will tell me what to do. It’s my kitchen spirit guide. My friend.

Fresh fruit is precious. It’s not long before it’s gone. There’s a reason we humans have been likening anything one works for to fruit for ages. And because of that, I don’t care to do much to it. When I get peaches, I eat peaches, juice running down my wrist. When I get blackberries, I eat blackberries, staining my clothes. I don’t want to dilute them.

Cobbler is an exception, my biscuit heart whispers when it sees a pint of blackberries, a peck of peaches. All that fruit will just bubble and thicken and become more itself as it breaks down, it tells me. Which is probably what happens to people in that hidden mysterious realm when they die, it says.

It’s a philosophical biscuit. And it isn’t a secular humanist like the man quoted above.

They just become sweeter, thicker bits of soulA bunch of jammy monads, it sighs.

Monads?, I ask.

Like in Leibniz…I mean, nevermind. Let’s make cobbler!

You’ll have to excuse the over reaching metaphor. It’s not my fault. I don’t come up with this stuff. My personified Leibnizian biscuit heart does…

Throw a few handfuls of herbs in there too. Because you’re young. Because you’re a rebel and Grandmother didn’t have mint in her cobbler. A splash of orange blossom water too because why not. Honey! And into the cast iron skillet!

And I do it. And the fresh fruit gets hot. The fresh fruit bubbles and becomes something new. And the topping. That topping gets golden, bits of sugar glinting in the yellow oven light. It puffs, and becomes one of the few substances (alongside pie crust) that doesn’t offend the ephemeral fruit of summer: sweet biscuit crust. It is the best. And now, to eat fruit. To create.
Blackberry + Peach Buttermilk Biscuit Cobbler | Local Milk
Blackberry + Peach Buttermilk Biscuit Cobbler | Local Milk
Blackberry + Peach Buttermilk Biscuit Cobbler | Local Milk

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