Hey, honeycakes.
What? I’m into cakes this week. Are you not? You are.
It being the eve of Rosh Hashana and all, I thought I’d bake you an apple honey cake, to help you ring in a sweet new year.
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Archives for September 2011
Cinnamon Everyday Cake
I’ve found a quiet spot in this churning, babbling city; it’s called the Poets House, and it’s only two blocks from mine. There are windows here, big ones that look down onto the green park below, and wooden floors and cushy seats and rows and rows of books. They make the whole place smell like what I imagine parchment must smell like. I can bring small slices of cinnamon cake and paper cups of tea inside, and sit by the windows and the rows of books, nibbling cake and burning my tongue with tea, trying to think of what to write. I like it here.
Today I paraded down a row of poetry books and stumbled upon a section entitled “Cooking.” I spent the better part of an hour reading from this section — I bet you didn’t know how many bizarre poems about food there are in the world. Lots. Poems about peas (I eat my peas with honey,/I’ve done it all my life,/They do taste kind of funny,/But it keeps them on the knife. – Anonymous) or pies or ketchup, songs against broccoli, odes to Irish stew… I think next time I’ll stick with Robert Frost.
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Summer 2011
A recap:
Zach and Jeannie got married in June.
There were sour cherries in July, and other pretty things, too.
There were coffee and crumpets in Seattle.
And the requisite fried clams in Montauk.
Then Aaron and Julie got hitched, in August.
So did my parents, thirty years ago.
Cute. Nice mustache, Dad.
It’s September now, so, there you have it. My 2011 summer. One for the books, I think. Family and sunshine, and plenty of good things to eat. Lucky.