check in

drinking lots of water: does this help 

y or n

taking flowers off of the plants on your fire escape and putting them in your hair when you are alone in your apartment: does this help 

y or n

baking a pie for yourself. is this activity

a) meditative

b) a waste of unsalted butter

if someone asks you if you have 'goals,' do you tell them that sometimes in Ireland people spell jail 'gaol?'

when you walk down the street do you have an inner monologue that you deem 

a) publishable

b) noteworthy

c) important

d) all of the above

is this

a) vain

b) human

c) something worth mining in therapy

d) all of the above

when you do things are you

a) constantly comparing yourself to others

b) never comparing yourself to others 

c) aware of the possibility for comparison, but able to avoid it simply by creating a secret list of people who will never be invited over to your apartment

are you

a) afraid of losing it

b) afraid of never having it

c) afraid of wasting it

d) unafraid

plant diary #1

we're gardeners! (sort of! sort of.) 

simplified

basil, sage, rosemary, mint, parsley, rosemary, lavender, tomatoes, nasturtiums, begonias, and escarole now live on our fire escape, on our front steps, on the windowsills.

I water them every morning. I make coffee for myself, open the window, touch the dirt, feel new astonishment that these everyday processes can take place, even on a fire escape, even in new york. purple flowers and lemon verbena reaching for light, soil smells like soil even when it's on newspaper in my living room.

there are still so many opportunities for introduction. here we are, getting acquainted with a root system. Squeeze the plastic container gently, hold the plant by the stem, settle it into a new pot, fill the pot with dirt. You are still a child, holding a little thing that will delight you with its perfect complexity.

the dirt dries out quickly, especially for those brave ones on our front steps. those are the tomatoes, nasturtiums, begonias. the tomato plants have doubled in size in two weeks, the nasturtiums are this astonishing explosion of orange blossoms. they inspire wild thoughts, like "I will make a gigantic salad covered in orange flowers, I will host a dinner at a long table, I will share everything I have with everyone I know!"

your scrambled senses // hungarian shortbread

it wasn’t until her initial panic had subsided that she regained her ability to perceive the outline of people’s bodies with clarity. figures had, for the past five years, remained globular in form, swirls of illogical tempera color, their voices a clak claw clam folk calk of tone and meaning. she was able to move through the world unassisted, but trusted smell and touch alone to guide her, nose perpetually upturned, hand held out, like a fox in pause, like a person sealing a questionable deal. sans smell, it might be her roommate approaching, or it might be the car she'd parked on a nameless side street sometime in 2011, now, could it be? drifting down the sidewalk in second gear? once, when coping with seasonal allergies, she really thought she’d seen it as she rounded a corner, but it turned out to have been a doberman pinscher.

the air outside, so full of water, did quiet the caterwauling of her brain. she could sit on her front steps and inhale and exhale and inhale without even having to think about it, and maybe petals were pulled off of trees by the slightest wind or moss grew on the shaded side of a rock or the wet concrete radiated heat and it all could have been anything else but for the way these things alone landed with such certainty in her mind. it seemed in these moments that her body took such care of her, if only sometimes.

bring this to a birthday party OR eat it all yourself! is the tagline of this blog.

hungarian shortbread
serves 8-10
(slightly adapted) from saveur magazine 

2 cups flour, plus more as needed
1 tsp. baking powder
1⁄8 tsp. fine salt
1⁄2 lb. unsalted butter, plus more for
   pan (all at room temperature)
1 cup sugar
2 egg yolks
1/2 cup raspberry jam

::  Using a sieve over a bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, and salt; set aside. Cream butter in a large bowl, using a hand mixer on high speed, until fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add sugar and egg yolks; mix until sugar is dissolved and mixture is light, about 4 minutes. With mixer on low speed, slowly add flour mixture; mix until dough just begins to come together, about 1 minute.

:: Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface; bring it together with your hands. Divide dough in half and form 2 balls. Wrap each ball in plastic wrap; freeze for at least 30 minutes. The recipe says "or up to three hours," but I froze them overnight and continued baking a few hours before I needed the finished shortbread.

:: Arrange an oven rack in center of oven; heat to 350°. A springform pan or a tart pan with a removable bottom would be easiest to use for this recipe, but I used a regular 9 inch cake pan and it ended up being fine. (Round is best so that every piece has crust!) Grease whatever pan you're using with butter. 

:: Remove a ball of dough from freezer, unwrap, and grate, using the large holes of a box grater, directly into prepared pan. Gently pat grated dough to even it out. Bake this bottom layer for about 20 minutes.

:: Remove from oven, and spread jam evenly over dough, leaving about a 1⁄2" border around edges. Grate remaining dough over jam layer; pat gently until surface is even. Bake until light golden brown, another 25–30 minutes. Let cool completely in pan, on a rack.

If you're using a pan with a removable bottom, you'll be able to easily lift the shortbread out. If you're like me and left the bottom of your tart pan at someone's house three months ago, gently turn the shortbread out onto an even surface. Do this in whatever way seems least likely to allow the shortbread to crack. I usually turn cakes out onto my hand (wearing an oven mitt,) because it makes contact with most of the 9 inch surface. Than I'll hold a plate or the rack to the top, and flip it over. If that makes sense, I'm glad, and if it doesn't, my point is just that you'll have to be gentle and whatever you're baking will need to be supported or it risks falling apart. Like a person?

:: Cut into wedges. This shortbread should have a slightly crunchy bottom and a chewy top. I refrigerated it for a few hours before serving, and it was fine! yumm.