baking holidays vegan

l-u-v

14 February 2008

tulips.jpg

Good morning, sunshines!

On this day of days, the sun is blazing down, and I’m off to a fancy luncheon in a few hours; but in the meantime, I can’t help but want to wish you a very sweet day full of love and pretty treats and something just for you.

So on this day to celebrate all things lovely — and in a similar vein to things for which I’m grateful, and happy about — here are a few of my especial amours of late:

-Living in a city where I can see the stars. Last night, for example, I glanced up to see Orion (the only constellation I really ‘know’) shining strong and bright at me as I reached mile 5; it gave me a little thrill, and the strength to run the last mile home.

– My funny, lovely family, scattered across the country as we may be

– New-to-me books (and, my public library!)

– Daylight savings time in less than a month (!)

– Roasted beets

– Warm weather

– Visitors

Zazie’s cage-free poached eggs

– Long weekends

– Days off in the middle of the week

– Dinner parties

– You

cookies.jpg
[Vegan cookies, January 2008.]

And as for how to do that little something special for yourself today? I suggest making a sweet to spoil yourself a bit. Baking is especially appealing because you can treat yourself to tastes of the batter before it goes into the oven, foreshadowing the deliciousness to come.

Might I reccomend (you may also like …)


Jam-and-butter cake

Chocolate macarons
Oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies
Milk chocolate pudding

Apple-pear galette

hearts.jpg

Lots of love to you and yours …

Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone—
and how it slides again

out of the blackness
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance—
and have you ever felt for anything

such wild love—
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you …

from “The Sun,” by Mary Oliver