a new year resolution

When I moved to college, I created a 3-ring binder with all the recipes I thought I would want or need.  They were organized and mostly handwritten.

Throughout college, the binder became increasingly disorganized {and encrusted with flour}.
With marriage, I "graduated" to cookbooks and tried to transition to a recipe card filing system. 

Recipe cards seemed to work for a lot of people but for a variety of reasons, they did not work for me.

{exhibit a: the recipe box}

Over the years, I amassed a large quantity of recipes that I placed in my recipe "box." 
I do have a tidy shelf of cookbooks {of which I use 3 with regularity} and then...
I have the recipes in my box.
These recipes are clipped {or torn} from magazines, glued onto index cards from friends, printed from the computer, and handwritten onto scraps of paper.  One year, friends and family members sent us their favorite, mostly easy recipes as inspiration for surviving the addition of a newborn baby. 

All those went into the box.

I have created my own recipes for things that I write onto whatever paper is laying nearby. 

Or paper scraps with recipes scratched down while at a friend's house for coffee. 

{exhibit b}

Last week I needed my recipe for spinach-artichoke dip and I went to my box.
The box has no real order; the front is the back and the back is the front. 

Directing someone else to find a recipe in the box can get a little tricky but I knew exactly what I was looking for: the black and white, red hot pepper card with the smudge of spinach on the edge. 

 {exhibit c}

And while I was rifling through this time, I thought to myself:

{Self, this box is out of control!

At least half of these recipes are ones you have never made.

and let's be honest here, you likely won't ever make them...}

And so, a resolution was born:

{exhibit d}

What is your resolution for the new year?

disappointment

i received some disappointing news today.

it is not the end of the world and i will recover.

but i feel a bit crushed and un-moored - somewhere deep in my core.

the resultant pressure is revealing some of those unresolved spaces i carry with me.

and there is not a double tall non-fat toffee nut latte or basket of fried chicken that can fix this right now.

my mind is all over and nowhere in particular.

i am keeping myself busy.

but i have to remind myself to focus.  

to find something to keep me moored and present in the moment.

so, this orchid is it.

my focus. 

i think about how it has yet to bloom and that resonates.

tender care. some water. some light. some time.

{it will bloom}

 

potential and beauty exist - even when it appears/feels otherwise.

cinnamon sticky buns

A few have asked for the sticky bun recipe from my last post.

These are perfect for hosting as you refrigerate the buns overnight and then bake the next day!

Please know, it looks more daunting than it really is.

Here goes:

{I am pretty sure I snagged the recipe from simplyrecipes.com}

To make the dough:

1/4 cup warm water
2 1/4 tsp (1 pkg) active dry yeast
1/3 cup sugar
3/4 cup milk
4 T unsalted butter
3 large egg yolks
1 T finely grated orange zest {my kids like a bit less as a little zest goes a long way for flavor}
1 1/4 tsp salt
4 + cups all purpose flour {it also works to use some whole wheat flour, if you are into that}

In the bowl of an electric mixer, dissolve yeast and 1/3 tsp sugar in the water and let sit until foamy.
{i like to do this part in a liquid measure so I can get the other parts going in the mixer while I wait for the yeast to do its thing}
Combine milk + butter + remaining sugar + egg yolks + orange zest + salt
Add yeast mixture, mixing on low

Add 3 cups flour using the paddle attachment on your mixer and then replace the paddle attachment with a dough hook to incorporate the 1+ cup of flour on a low speed. Once mixed, increase mixer speed to medium to knead the dough into a smooth, slightly sticky ball.

Place the dough into a greased bowl, turning the dough to get a little butter on all "sides," and place in a warm place with a plastic wrap cover.  Let rise until doubled in size {approximately 1-2 hours}
Once doubled, punch down, and turn onto a lightly floured surface.  Let dough sit for approximately 20 minutes while you prepare filling and sticky topping.

To make the topping:

3/4 cup brown sugar (firmly packed)

4 T unsalted butter

3 T honey

1 T light corn syrup

1 1/2 cups pecans (coarsely chopped)

Melt the brown sugar + butter + honey + corn syrup in small saucepan over low heat until sugars are dissolved.  Pour into the bottom of a greased 9 x 13 baking dish. Spread the mixture evenly over the bottom of the dish and sprinkle with pecans. 

To make the filling:

Combine 1/2 cup brown sugar {firmly packed} + 1 T ground cinnamon

Melt 4 T unsalted butter in a small dish, keep separate

To assemble:

Using a lightly floured rolling pin, roll the dough out into a rectangle (approx. 12" x 18").  

Brush the dough with melted butter and sprinkle with the brown sugar+cinnamon mixture. 

Starting with the long side, roll the dough into a log and lightly press the dough at the seam to seal.

Slice the log cross-wise into 15 pieces and place each roll into the baking dish; crowd the rolls so they "just" touch but leave a little room in between for the rolls to rise.

Cover with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator overnight.

To bake:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Take rolls out of refrigerator and set atop stove while oven is preheating.

Remove plastic wrap and bake in heated oven until tops are golden {approx. 30 - 35 minutes}.

Remove plan from oven and immediately invert the rolls onto a serving platter {a large sheet pan or tray works well too}. Let cool for a few moments and serve warm.

Enjoy!

...and so, i bake

Whenever tragedy befalls a community - nationally or internationally - I feel internal conflict.

You know, the kind of tragedies that grip the attention of people across the globe:

{school shootings, hurricanes and tropical storms, earthquakes, plane crashes, bombings...}

In the moment I am listening to the news across the radio or reading a news article or blog post, I feel the burden of that community's pain. I feel compelled to DO something - to "help" in some way. 

I am drawn in.
I listen a while longer or read "just one more" account.

However, as I withdraw my attention from the stories, I feel the distance of disengagement.
I find myself overcome by the banal tasks of my life - wildly unaffected by the drama unfolding hundreds or thousands of miles away - and I feel a sense of guilt.

Life's equilibrium has shifted, in ways that will take a lifetime to reconcile {if ever}.

And yet,

Life goes on - in ways as ordinary now as moments before the tragic event.

It does not seem fair.  

But neither does it make sense for the completion of all life's tasks to cease.

Compassion: Relief: Guilt

 {internal conflict}

I find I don't really know what to do with the conflict.

I try to remain mindful - emotionally and intellectually present when others want to discuss - but I also need some distraction from the weight of (inter)national grief.

Sometimes it feels overwhelming and so, I bake.

I immerse myself in the kitchen.

 I create something to share.

Then I sit down with my family {the people I love} - we talk and eat and laugh.

For a time, my mind is quieted

Tragedies leave an indelible mark:

We do not ever know what the days, weeks, and years ahead will bring.

But right here and right now,

my heart is grateful.

functional depression

I went to my physician last week for my annual physical.

As a prelude to the physical exam, she completed a depression screening.

Standard procedure, she said {as if she needed to justify asking those questions}

My responses didn't seem to trigger anything in the screening and so we moved on.

But my responses might have triggered something if I had met with her 2 weeks ago.

Because 2 weeks ago, I was in a funk.

Not the kind where it impaired my daily function, per se, and not one that would likely meet a clinical threshold but one where I was sadder than usual and felt despairing, disconnected and out of focus.  I went about my business - work, kid schlepping, home-making, being a spouse/friend/daughter/sister but I didn't feel much joy and I found it exceedingly difficult to remain fully present in...anything.

I am, by nature, a bit of a malcontent. 

In general, I find that part of my being to be an asset.

It serves me well in thinking outside the box and pursuing new endeavors, being open to perspective, or looking for ways to increase efficiency and creativity.  I like holding myself accountable to the patterns of life - to be mindful and remain attentive to possibilities for improvement/adjustment.  

But when it spins me into a funk, it crosses into a realm of liability.

My Dad, a massage therapist, specializes in what he calls "functional touch."

It is a slow, intentional, persistent, mindful approach to body work.

He spends hours working with the deepest set patterns in our bodies - attending to the tissue that has been forgotten, twisted, deadened, and deprived of circulation.  

The process to restore a body's tissue to health can be long, it can sometimes feel worse as you go about it, and demands your attention.

As I rolled off his table last week, I thought about how the narrative of my funk could be more functional than despairing.  How the ebb and flow of life is like our tissue - 

deeply set into patterns {likely established before our conscious thought} about which we remain fairly oblivious until/unless there is a problem {pain, discomfort, dis-ability}.

On the other side of my funk, I am able to see how it was restorative. 

I feel more resilient to the wonky-ness life is throwing my way.

I feel more attentive to life's priorities and feel better equipped to handle competing demands.

I feel as though I have greater clarity.

I feel more alive.