Blueberry Lemon Pancakes

Blueberry Lemon Pancakes

Blueberry Lemon Pancakes

Weekend mornings are meant for a little luxury. Sleeping in until the morning sun gently wakes me, slowly bringing up the radiant light through the bedroom windows, instead of the sharp, loud beep of an alarm clock is bliss. Lazily scrolling through internet pages and listening to the morning news in pajama bottoms and a wild case of bedhead is indulgence. The smell of coffee and a small stack of pancakes with a drizzle of maple syrup is joy.

If weekends were not meant for luxury, then when?

Blueberry Lemon Pancakes

When I was younger, my mother often made pancakes for Sunday morning brunch. Eggs were scrambled, bacon was sizzling on the stove, and the maple syrup was warmed in preparation of the feast. Yet, for some unspeakable reason, I had decided I did not like pancakes, lifting my nose up at them until my mother grew exasperated. Looking back, I cannot quite understand what exactly was going on in my mind, but I do feel I owe my mother an apology. I feel a little silly now, inventing my own pancake recipes, when just years ago my mother could only get me to try a bite if she sprinkled chocolate chips over them.

I am thankful my taste buds have grown up with the rest of me.

Blueberry Lemon Pancakes

One winter weekend morning, when the sun was shining and the windows were frosted with snow, the mood felt right to stay in and have a warm breakfast. I whisked together the ingredients for blueberry lemon pancakes and heated up a frying pan. Typically, I make large pancakes, simply because they are easy to cook and I have to spend less time hovering over a griddle. For these pancakes, however, the lazy feel of the morning had spread from my head down to my fuzzy sock covered toes and I decided a true short stack was in order. I cooked the pancakes one at time, patiently trying to flip them at just the right moment (and failing, most of the time. It is still a skill I have yet to master).

A secret of the food photographers trade: hide the too dark pancakes in the middle of the stack and perhaps no one will notice. Browned or not, these pancakes punctuated the morning with just the right amount of luxury.

Blueberry Lemon Pancakes

Blueberry Lemon Pancakes are destined for weekend morning breakfasts. The pancake batter has a mixture of whole wheat and all-purpose flour to give them an extra heartiness. Speckled with fresh blueberries and lemon zest, the flavor is bold and pronounced. For true lemon lovers, you may add a tablespoon of lemon juice to give the pancakes a bit more punch. With a drizzle of maple (or blueberry) syrup, these pancakes become the weekend breakfast of champions.

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Black Tea Cake with Honey Buttercream

Black Tea Cake with Honey Buttercream

Black Tea Cake with Honey Buttercream

Somewhere between the gentle rolling hills and foggy mists of England, I fell in love with black tea. After moving to the United Kingdom for a few months, surrounded by a new culture and colorful accent, afternoon tea seemed like a very British tradition to experience. Up until this point, I had never been much of a tea drinker, perhaps only stealing a cup of chai when my mother set the teapot to boil, but I still felt like I would grow to enjoy it.

Originating from a nation of coffee drinkers, tea sounded like a fresh, bright alternative to the acidic touch of a rudimentary coffee maker.

Black Tea Cake with Honey Buttercream Black Tea Cake with Honey Buttercream

I remember my first trip to a British supermarket well. I paced up and down the aisles with an unusual level of fascination with the food lining the shelves. When I reached the tea section, I needed to take a moment to look over the vast display, feeling overwhelmed with choosing a place to begin my tea journey. I looked over different boxes in earnest, but with no concept of the difference between Earl Grey and Rooibos or English and Irish breakfast tea, it all felt as foreign to me as the new country I was in. I eventually snatched a box of PG Tips off the shelf, gambling with my future in tea.

Since that very first cup, brewed hot and fresh in my small dorm kitchen, I have not been able to turn back since. Black tea had utterly captured my heart.

Black Tea Cake with Honey Buttercream

Even now, I much prefer a mug of black tea to a mug of black coffee. On the weekends, when the morning is slow and responsibilities have been forgotten, I boil the water and brew the tea, adding a splash of milk and a drizzle of honey. You could, in many ways, call it my drink of choice.

Last weekend, while sipping a mug of tea and watching a winter storm turn the world white outside my window, I envisioned the flavors of my cup of tea as a slice of cake. Staying warm in my apartment, I started up the oven and turned my faint imaginings into a reality, creating a lovely little cake for two. My boyfriend, a strong believer in the powers of a good cup of coffee, fought me for the final piece. I think that speaks more about this cake than anything else.

Black Tea Cake with Honey Buttercream Black Tea Cake with Honey Buttercream

Black Tea Cake with Honey Buttercream is a cup of tea turned into a slice of cake. The black tea cake is made by pouring the contents of three tea bags into warmed milk and allowing it to brew before adding the milk into the cake batter, tea leaves and all. The batter takes on a wonderful color, with specks of tea leaves to add a unique twist. After baking, the cake is topped with a honey buttercream that keeps the flavor without so much of the sweetness. The cake and buttercream taste just as their namesake, giving the classic cup of tea a new life. Tea lovers, this cake is just for you.

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Chocolate Pudding

Chocolate Pudding

Chocolate Pudding

I was raised on chocolate and pudding cups. In my family, it was an after dinner ritual to pull out the pudding whenever dessert was on the menu. Warm or cold, pudding cups were a part of my childhood routine. My mother always bought the packs with vanilla and chocolate because they came in volume packs, but the rest of my family thought it was silly—no one liked the vanilla cups. My father and I would always scramble to grab the chocolate ones before anyone else and my poor mother was left with the vanilla. In fact, I am not sure my mother ever had the opportunity to claim a chocolate cup as her own.

Nowadays, even though there seems to be a countless number of flavored puddings and custards, I always come back to good old-fashioned chocolate. Sometimes you just should not mess with an original.

Chocolate Pudding

There is a special pudding-eating spoon sitting in my kitchen drawer. Long and skinny, it was the smallest spoon we had in the house growing up (and I have since carried it with me into my own apartment). I adore this spoon for its small size and prefer to eat my favorite foods with it. The narrow curve holds very little, which means that I get to draw out the satisfaction of eating much longer. This proves doubly so when it comes to pudding.

Since I was young, I have liked to mix a few Cheerios into my chocolate pudding whenever they were in the cupboard. The cheerios absorb a bit of the bold chocolate flavor, but keep their firmness, resulting in the greatest bowl of cheerios a small child (or grown woman) can experience. My family would look at me strangely, too uncertain of the combination to try it themselves. Back then I assured them they were missing out (and I do the same today).

Chocolate Pudding

My ideal chocolate pudding is a little rich, with a very pronounced chocolate flavor from two sources—cocoa powder and a little melted chocolate. The real secret to this recipe is the addition of salt and vanilla extract. Both of these ingredients provide a contrasting flavor to the sweet chocolate, and the combination of the three takes the flavor of the pudding from one-dimensional to downright delicious.

This chocolate pudding may be simple, but simplicity is often just what we need.

Chocolate Pudding

Chocolate pudding is surprisingly easy to make, and takes only fifteen minutes to whip up from start to finish. The pudding is thickened with a combination of cornstarch and egg yolks, which gives it a real custard-like quality. A mixture of cocoa powder and melted chocolate lends a proper chocolate touch, while whole milk lends the pudding a rich and creamy flavor. Two-percent milk is a great alternative for a less rich pudding, but I would not use a milk lower in fat or the pudding may lose a little of its magic.

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