Usually, an old chapter ends before a new one is begun. But not this one. There's no closure here, no epilogue to wrap it all up. It's a rush, a condensation of time, like a hastily-assembled sandwich with a woeful lack of dressing. And it shows. The aftereffects are apparent, blatantly so, in the bags lining eyes, in the bouts of depressed silence and the tracks of Hozier playing on repeat.
So right now, right here, in the dark of this relatively quiet Friday night - the first of twenty fifteen's - I'll write one.
This holiday, I've truly come to experience and perhaps grasp slight understanding of 'impermanence'. It's a sacred topic (to me) and a rather personal one, but I'm sharing it here since this space is to document aspects of my life, and this is another. I've been lounging about the house in a little of a 'footle', not thinking about anything in particular, not doing anything in particular, just craving some silent companionship and something to keep this boredom at bay.
To be truthful, nothing seems to work. Eating a snack delivers momentary distraction, movies and shows stave insouciance off for an hour or two, and excursions always seem to end too soon. You see, this is impermanence, this ending of anything in a temporal state, be it physical or mental. Nothing lasts forever.
Strangely enough, it's that simple truth that pushes me forward, makes me seek out the next great adventure. I'm curious about what the future has in store, but also mildly reluctant to sever the ties binding me to this declining one. I'm aware that my two-month hiatus from rushed school days are due to end (and best that it does too), but I, a la typical teenage attitude, don't want to return to days of assignments, due dates and haste. (I know that there's some form of that in my break, but it's the enjoyable sort) I neither mind the mornings when it's still dark out, nor the homework (some say that I'm a masochist) but it's the freedom that I crave. The freedom to abide to my own schedule, to do what I like when I want to, the lack of the need to conform to the myriad rules.
Perhaps it's for the best. Once, I attempted to convince, persuade and otherwise cajole my mother into home-schooling me. It wasn't the most ideal, admittedly, but I longed for the latitude to learn at my own pace, free from the nonsense (bluntly put) that more often than not disrupted lessons. I'm not a people-person, it's clear, but I'll talk about that some other time. Still, a new school year's round on the doorstep, and like it or not, I'm going to have to embrace it.
It all catches up with you, sooner or later. Already, the night draws my eyelids down and my mind's starting to wander.
So, this cake. It was the breakfast of my father and I on the first of January. I cooked when it was still dark out (early 7), photographs and all (pardon the slight graininess), and served it just past 7.40. I really like making crepe cakes, when I seem to revert to zen mode - pour, spread, flip and repeat. I've made crepe cakes before, and here, a twenty-layer one. It sounds impressive, but really, the process is perspicuous. The key lies in heating the pan up first, so the batter doesn't run. This probably sounds rather straightforward and common sense-ish, but you'd be surprised.
A simple vanilla-yogurt icing was made and slathered thinly between layers to hold the cake together, along with some for the top. Decorate with fruits, toasted nuts (coconut included) or a candle, if you're up for it. It's all yours, carte blanche.
Crepe Cake for Two
makes 20 6-inch crepes for a cake (well, it did for me)
total time taken: 20 minutes (I swear)
1/2 c flour
2 tbsp milk
1 tbsp maple syrup
pinch of baking powder
1/4 c greek yogurt (4 tbsp)
2 tbsp sugar
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
1. Heat up a greased pan on medium-high heat. (this is important, unless you want your crepes to flow everywhere)
2. Mix all the crepe ingredients till a smooth, watery batter forms.
3. Lower the heat to medium. Spoon the batter up, 1 tbsp-ful, and pour onto the hot pan, spreading in a circle 6-inches in diameter quickly.
4. When the top is solid (it's almost instant - 10-20 seconds), flip the crepe and cook the other side for a bit (don't overdo it) and set aside.
5. Repeat until the batter runs out.
6. Afterwards, combine all ingredients for the frosting and layer thinly between the crepes (just enough to spread out).
7. Decorate as you wish and serve. Enjoy.
- to be continued -