p.s. dimply peach cake...

...tastes caramelly from the brown sugar, and rich from the organic valley pasture butter. The cake puffs up around the sunny peaches, which cook just enough that they're soft but intact. What a lovely before bed snack with a mug of strong Cafe Fair French Roast decaf coffee. Good night, y'all ♥

twd: dimply peach cake

And, here I am again raving about peaches...

Friday night after we drove back to my parents house from the ferry dock, Mom surprised Dad and I with a delicious little nectarine galette. On Saturday, Mom and I were too busy soaking up the late and next-to-last summer sunshine to fuss with pastry and a full blown peach pie. Instead, we made a peach crisp to follow a dinner of farmer's market veggies and Grandpa's stories.

Today I carried a heavy paper grocery bag filled with Michigan fruits and veggies on the car ferry, and when I stepped off on the other side of the Lake feeling a little blue, and a little alone, I decided to use some of the peaches Mom sent home with me to make this week's TWD recipe: Dimply Plum Cake, chosen by Michelle of Bake-en. Dorie suggests peaches as an acceptable alteration.

I buttered and floured my favorite and under-used green Emile Henri pie plate, since my 8 inch baking dish is at a friend's house. I set about mixing the dry ingredients and allowing the cold ingredients to reach room temperature while I washed, peeled, and halved the peaches.

I decided that today was a day to dip into my Organic Ancient Snow Sprout Green Tea, a special occasion tea (read: ridiculously expensive) that I purchased at Great Lakes Tea and Spice in Glen Arbor, Michigan earlier this summer. This shop is actually two little refurbished "out buildings," which are charmingly and simply equipped with shelves of tea and spices and various high tech tea machines and quaint pots. Besides the high quality tea, the best part about the shop is the proprietor, who brewed a pot of the aforementioned tea for us, shared its story, and generally left us--no, not H, because she is happily married (as is, I should mention, Tea Guy), but rather ME--smitten.

And such a lovely green tea asked to be steeped and served in an authentic cast iron Japanese tea pot, so I dug that out too. I eschewed my Japanese tea cups in favor of my pretty, cottagey, vintage Johnson Brothers Rose Chintz tea cup and saucer. I brought the water to a boil, then removed it from the heat for 3 minutes. I poured the hot water over the full tea petals, and allowed it to steep for 8 minutes.

I set about whirling the butter and sugar and eggs and flavorings together, and finished assembling the cake as my tea reached perfection.

I turned on the Americana radio station on my new digital cable and relaxed to Alison Krauss and Shawn Mullins.

I pushed the cake in the oven, sipped my tea, and made a batch of Mark Bittman's crunchy granola for the week: oats, flax meal, walnuts, coconut, dried cherries, maple syrup, and vanilla.




My house is toasty, and while grey skies and fog linger outside, inside I have the clarity of a Bodhisattva.

twd: chocolate chunkers

dharmagirl with a bowlful of chocolate chunkers

Friday afternoon grey skies threatened rain and temperatures plummeted, marking a clear transition to FALL. I'm still dreaming of summer, and these early fall days bring a certain amount of sadness. To combat my blues, I headed to the Weather Center Cafe for a steaming bowl of soup and a creamy cafe au lait. I read through a stack of rough drafts and started drafting another blog entry.

Then, I went to the Woodlake Market, one of my favorite grocery stores in the region. It's a favorite because of their chocolate selection--Scharffen Berger bars, Vosges mini bars--their wine selection--and their wide array of Alterra coffee. I was in search of a decent unsweetened and white chocolate for this week's recipe, from Claudia of Fool for Food, Chocolate Chunkers. I had hoped for Scharffen Berger unsweetened chocolate, but settled for Ghiradelli.

I mixed up the dough on Saturday, starting with chopping all that chocolate--6 oz. of bittersweet (Lindt excellence); 1 oz. unsweetened (the aforementioned Ghiradelli); 3 oz. milk chocolate (Scharffenberger); and 3 oz. white (Ghiradelli). I toasted walnuts, and splashed a cup of craisins with a little Maker's Mark to push the cookies a bit over the top. The dough came together easily and tasted like a loaded brownie. I let it chill for an hour or so, and then set out baking.

Once again, I established a rhythm of filling the cookie trays, reading student essays while they baked, and then starting the cycle over again as I emptied the cookie tray and filled it again.

On Sunday I shared the cookies with my friend B and her sister M who's visiting from California. We sipped coffee and tea, munched on these delicious, lovely textured, and completely chocolate cookies while talking politics and forgetting about the never-ending rain outside.

This TWD adventure has been a joy, connecting me to other baking bloggers, but also connecting me to my friends and colleagues through the fruits of my labor. And, I'm enjoying trying new recipes that I would probably admire but never actually bake. So far I've enjoyed all the cookies I've baked, but this week's cookies are a real winner. Next time I'll use pecans and dried cherries, and hunt down all Scharffen Berger chocolate.

twd: chocolate whopper malted drops

chocolate whopper malted drops, courtesy of my web cam


This week teachers, students, and professors returned to school as summer sun gave way to crisp fall breezes. I embarked on a full semester of teaching two writing classes, American Literature, and first year seminar. The amount of energy required to move from inertia to full activity never ceases to astound me. This week was exhausting and fun as I met my classes and reconnected with friends after summer vacation.

Thursday night I stopped by the grocery store to buy the necessary supplies for this week's TWD recipe, Chocolate Whopper Malted Drops (on page 85), selected by Rachel of Confessions of a Tangerine Tart. I quickly located Carnation malt powder next to the Ovaltine and Hot Chocolate, Whoppers in the candy section, and my favorite 60% Ghiradelli chocolate chips in my favorite aisle--baking! After baking the cookies and eating way too many Whoppers as I was chopping them, I decided that next time I would splurge for candy store malted milk balls, which seem to have an extra layer of higher-quality chocolate.

The dough came together easily with a mousse-like texture, and an utter deliciousness when scooped up and eaten raw! Several TWD bloggers suggested that the dough was too chocolatey, but I was fearless and even used my favorite "mahogany gold" Valrhona cocoa powder instead of my standard Ghiradelli cocoa. Although Dorie doesn't specify to chill the dough overnight, I did anyway.

Friday afternoon I set about baking the cookies while emailing my students about their first writing assignment. I set up a baking station and a computer station on my kitchen island and seamlessly moved between the two. The rhythm of forming balls of dough to fill a baking sheet, emailing while the cookies baked, and lifting their molten goodness on to the cooling rack soothed my agitated soul.

In addition to the fun of being back to school, our campus community was saddened with the news that one of our colleagues lost both of the babies she was carrying when she went into labor way too early. The memorial service was that afternoon. The warm smell of baking chocolate wrapped around me, holding me tight against the sober truth that, as my friend B. so eloquently stated, "mother nature can be a real bitch."

As the first batch of cookies cooked, I brewed strong coffee and heated milk on the stove for a cafe au lait--the perfect counterpoint to the caramelly, chocolatey wonder of the cookies and the heavy sadness in my heart.

My thoughts turned again to C and the sadness of the memorial to come. I thought about the complexity of issues regarding women and motherhood, thrust once again onto the collective consciousness with political events of the week.

There's never been a week when I both wanted and didn't want to be a mother so much.

I ate another cookie, loaded up the baking sheet, and returned to my laptop to help my students, and steer my mind into more practical and less complicated emotional waters.

On Saturday, I packed up the cookies and gave them to my friends A and J, who were hosting an open house to share their new, beautiful home with friends and colleagues. They--the cookies, though also the party and the home-- were a hit, and more than one person admitted that they ate more than 4 cookies. Another TWD success! Thank you, Dorie, for a recipe that brings comfort, joy, and chocolate to those in need when life is full of sadness and elation.