Kitchen Closing

Etsy

Its been fun.

It really has. But eight weeks ago, before starting this blog as a class assignment, I had no idea how much maintenance it would take. Like any working kitchen, a blog requires daily upkeep. Upkeep I'm not sure I can maintain in the coming quarter. 

This blog gave me things I didn't expect. Courage for every time I clicked publish. Willpower and creativity for every time I didn't feel like writing or hadn't a clue of what to write about. Admiration for those blogger's who make keeping a blog seem easy and reading it even easier. And lastly, curiosity. Keeping my own blog ironically piqued my interest in reading other peoples' blogs. 

One such interest developed while reading A Homemade Life. I used many of Wizenberg's recipes for my beginning posts and added Delancey to my bucket list of restaurants to try. So, a few weeks ago on Valentine's day, I took a detour through Seattle on my way home for the weekend.  The location itself was a bit of a hole in the wall in that it was out of the way and identifiable only by the small sign pictured below. The window on which it was written also tended to fog up (I blame this for the fact that my accomplice and I had to circle the block several times before locating it).

Please pardon the subpar, cellphone-quality of these pictures!

Delancey's decor was modest, yet chic. And the pizza? Top notch. Even better for breakfast the next day. The crust was charred around the edges, not burnt, but "kissed" by the flame (as I have heard it called). I kept my eyes peeled for Brandon or Molly, but to no avail. 

If I hadn't started my own blog, I wouldn't have become so invested in others'. I wouldn't have visited Delancey, tried and devoured Jane's carrot cake pancakes, reminisced the good ol' days of Sharks and Minnows with Kaitlyn, or sat mesmerized for ten minutes watching Bailey paint shoes.

I leave you with two things: a piece of advice and a piece of pizza.  Scratch that, just the pizza (because what else would a food blogger do?)  Though I won't be posting anymore, you can still find me in the kitchen.

And with that, the kitchen is closed.

The Uneaten Birthday Cake

The UFO (sans the flying bit) pictured above happens to be a cake.  More specifically, a lemon poppyseed birthday cake. A cake baked by your's truly for her dad. A cake that his mom used to make for him. It happened just a few years ago, this calamity, when I was all-too eager to be in charge of what would be the least eaten birthday cake of all time. 

I can't recall anything suspicious about the batter, and can guarantee I tried it as I sample whatever I'm baking at each stage along the way.  The trouble started when I pulled the cakes from the oven.  Both layers appeared to be covered in ants, only I knew this wasn't so.     The poppyseeds had risen to the top. I must have thought that this was no big deal since I continued to assemble the cake.  

It was supposed to be two layers of poppyseed cake sandwiching a lemon filling. I got the two layers part! But not only had each layers' poppyseeds risen, but their Crisco had also sunk to the bottom, yielding a five layer lard-opium-lemon-lard-opium cake. Mmm. 

To make matters worse, things went terribly wrong with the lemon filling so that it resembled something like oatmeal or vomit. I couldn't even frost the sides of the cake in an attempt to disguise its unmixed interior because the lemon guts were spilling all over the plate. And the two layers of poppyseeds made the cake crunchy...not that anyone wanted to eat it at this point anyway.

I can't remember if I ever figured out what went wrong.  I think we ended up buying a cake. Good thing it's the thought that counts.