I studied French for five years – from high school through college – but I still can’t say “financier” properly – 50% of the time it comes out with a harsh American R trailing behind. Fortunately these nut-free pepita financiers are much prettier and more delicate than the sound of their name rolling off my tongue.
With temperatures reaching about a billion degrees, cold dinner is where it’s at. I could live off this vegan sunflower butter buckwheat noodle bowl through the dog days of summer. It’s my jam. With the house all but melting into The Bay, we’ve found another new evening groove to keep the babe cool and mama sane.
On Zo’s first playdate with the neighbor baby, he pulled her hair so hard she cried. I told her it means he likes her (or else is jealous of her 3-month-old floppy mop of locks). I think she understood because on their next playdate, she stuck his hand in her mouth. Assertive and knows what she wants. Licking something to claim it as your own is a valuable life skill. Take these berry, herb, and cheese toast bites, for example. I licked them all. They’re mine.
I used to be a kid who loved dirt. Over the 4th of July, I could camp by the lake for a week without a shower, not worrying about the crud under my fingernails or whatever was nesting in my hair. Back then we ate s’mores over the campfire every night. Twenty years later, we still return the same lake every summer, but now we stay in a cabin and eat this gluten-free pistachio rose cake topped with rose-scented strawberries for dessert.
Summer 2016 introduced itself like a warm hug from that one friend who holds on just a little too tight, too long. At first it feels awesome, but then you’re like “C’mon dude – too much!” And now I want to curl up and live inside my freezer with these coconut lemongrass ginger popsicles forever. Zoella and I legit escaped the heat by opening the freezer to look at them several times today. It’s our happy place.
We spend most of her awake time cycling between opening all the windows in the house, deciding it’s still too hot, and closing them again to go for a breezy stroll. Maybe this house-sized sauna is the real reason the cat keeps sneaking out.
After frustratingly spending all day as a human pacifier, we started helping Zoella learn to put herself to sleep last night. She fended off fussies with her whole fist in her mouth. And though she can’t sit up or crawl yet, she pivoted perpendicular to her crib. It took every ounce of restraint not to just shove my boob in her mouth and call it a night as I have for the past two weeks. Instead I ate this green goddess pesto straight from the jar (<—stress eater!).
BUT! She slept 11 hours last night (with me sneaking in twice to feed her while she slept) and put herself back to sleep when she briefly woke up at 2:30am. Once we cure the no nap situation, we’re going to be a house that sleeps once again. Bribing her with cold hard cash so far shows no results.
Also, can someone come feed me while I sleep? That sounds awesome and like a total time-saver.
This bread is an ode to my dad and the cinnamon raisin bread bars he’d toast for his breakfast every morning when I was a kid (not for me – I turned my nose up at anything with mushy cooked raisins in it). Mornings are my dad’s jam. For me, they’re the absolute worst.
But having a loaf of this cinnamon raisin seed and nut bread on hand makes them significantly more bearable. Especially when your baby seems to have inherited some of her grandpa’s AM enthusiasm (the happy part, thankfully – not the early part…yet.).
New life skill: doing all the things I used to do…while holding or wearing a 15lb baby. Like brewing a morning matcha latte with a babe on the hip and other very normal things like cutting strawberries (one-handed…machete style) and torching a matcha breakfast brûlée.