Wednesday, September 24, 2014
A New Year
And once again, though I've never had a pumpkin spice latte or bought an autumnal Bath & Body Works candle, I'm completely falling for (sorry) all the fall propaganda. I'm thinking about those leaves, and when they'll tip from spectacular to sad. (I don't want to miss it.) I'm also thinking about sweaters and boots, about hot cider and fresh apples and turning those apples into cake.**
And because it's fall, time of new beginnings and new years, I'm also thinking about change.
I read a blog post recently, written by Kristen of Milo and Molly. (Check out her shop, if you haven't yet. Warning: you might want to buy everything.) The post is about blogging, and wondering what the point of it is, or if it has a point at all. Though I write a different sort of blog, I found the post very relatable and thought-provoking. I have no desire to stop blogging, but I do occasionally question whether it's worth it, when so few people read. And I always wish I was doing more to improve this blog. I get mad that I don't have the time to do that, and then I realize that's just an excuse.
I'll be taking a short break and resuming blogging in October. Hopefully by then I will have come up with some ideas on how to make the blog better; at the very least I will have eaten too much apple cake.
*Route 2 is the best for seeing how the leaves are changing. It doesn't get photo shoots in magazines, like certain towns in the Litchfield Hills, but it's the best. Trust me.
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 cup orange juice
1 tsp vanilla
4 cups thinly sliced apples
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
Pre-heat oven to 350F.
Beat eggs, 2/3 cup sugar, and oil together.
In separate bowl, mix flour and baking powder.
Add to egg mixture alternately with juice; add vanilla; blen.
Place half the batter in greased 9x9 pan. Add apples. Mix 1/4 cup sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle over apples. Add remaining batter on top.
Bake at 350 for 1 hour.
(Pareve. Adapted from Bubbe's Kitchen: Cherished Dishes from the National Council of Jewish Women of Canada, Vancouver Section.)