It is inevitable that at this time of year, my voice joins the chorus of lamenters about the weather.
To be sure, we are justified.
I mean really … minus 25?! Minus 30?!
Come on, Old Man Winter! Enough is enough.
But I would be fibbing in a big, bad way if I didn’t admit on some level that underneath it all (especially those new five pounds I found over the holidays), there is an almost-pleasure to this cold, snowy time of year.
Deep down, secretly hong kong top phd programs, I enjoy it … sort of. The bad weather is the free pass to stay home and stay in. And bake.
Bake. Bake. Bake. Bake. Bake. Bake. Bake.
Of course it’s a double-edged sword. All the staying in does become a bit trying, after a certain point.
But let’s just say I haven’t gotten to that point … yet.
While last weekend I publicly moaned over spending another weekend shut in, the truth is I spent it happily in the kitchen.
And of all the happy moments spent there service apartment hong kong, these biscuits were among the most pleasurable.
Truly, it is astonishing what you can create from a few ingredients. Some flour, salt, cold butter and the gentle pressure of your hands will yield something so simple yet pleasing.
Pleasing to the bone.
In these cold days of being shut in, I turn again and again to the cookbooks that I have had the longest and that are most dear to me.
In this case it is my well worn copy of the Joy of Cooking offshore company formation.
My fingers easily found the creased and marked page with a recipe that I have made many times.
I wish I could say I demonstrated restraint in the face of these biscuits, but that would be another fib.
I gloried in them. I slathered them in butter and jam, every last one of them, and I gobbled them all up.
Wrapped in blankets with my cookbooks by me, cozy on the couch, with a happy belly, the weather outside seemed a world away.