Hi guys. I'm back. It's been two months. And even more since a new recipe. I have not been slacking off. At all. Which is why I'm so lethargic. Which is why I'm typing in truncated sentences. But I'll try to sound more coherent. Try, okay? (look! Here's a rise in pitch!)
Just a short summary of what I've been up to since January, in pictorial representation and short captions. Because I'm tired. And also because I may not be able to recall the full events that transpired.
This post contains mild usage of expletives and a lengthier-than-usual life update so scroll right through to the recipe if you wish to avoid them.
Here it is: my raging tirade (supposedly, the anger has subsided somewhat) against traditional recipe blogging norms calling for pretty, sterile kitchens and set-ups that look like they're fresh out of a magazine spread. Fuck standard. Fuck traditional norms. Fuck expectations. Here's a recipe (and some accompanying words) right out of my grimy, dingy kitchen to yours, and trust me, its fucking good.
This has been months in the making, namely the two months that I've been away from here (its been my longest hiatus yet). Thanks to exam after exam, I have been taking a break from blogging, no shit Sherlock. Life has been busy. So yeah. I've compiled a whole list of reads and things-I've-been-wanting-to-share, but putting it in link love really did feel insincere and scrappy. Y'all come here for the recipes (or my sub-par photos) that that's what I'm going to deliver, not just some half-assed life update that makes me come across as a chronic narcissist, especially when I have TIME on my hands (at least, I did before my schedule exploded earlier today).
These days, I find myself routinely returning to the same few recipes - cookies, banana bread, lemon cake. There's something especially comforting in the assurance that the results will be the same, that success (in my opinion) is guaranteed.
The same goes for what I've been doing. It's been the same places, same faces, same names, of late. I've been feeling particularly insular, returning to the simple things that bring me comfort, not particularly willing to venture out for the new and the exciting.