Persimmon Cake

Two years ago to the date marks the day I took my life into my own hands and changed the course. It feels strange to reflect on my decisions since then. So much in my world has changed that if someone had told me how the direction of my life would zig and zag through different paths, I certainly wouldn't have believed them.

After quitting grad school for physics and moving back home, I jumped headfirst into baking and spent the next year working as a baker in two very different bakeries. The first position was in a small cake shop. While it was a lovely opportunity, it didn't allow me as much freedom in the kitchen as I would have liked. I moved onto a second, more expansive bakery that made dozens of pastries each day from scratch. Even though I had the freedom to create whatever I wished (and I loved this freedom), there was a small, but irksome feeling in the back of my mind that wouldn't quite go away. Something just didn't feel right.

Another change began brewing within me.

Though I've alluded to it several times on the blog, I've never outright told you that I no longer bake full-time. In many ways, I was afraid of what you would think of me. I made such a big deal of quitting school to follow my dreams that it seemed like I would be letting you down to suddenly back out on those plans. I feared you'd start to view me as capricious or fickle. Truthfully, I may have been afraid to admit to myself that I had made such a huge decision that didn't work out.

There were many reasons becoming a full-time baker wasn't right for me. The pay was low, the early morning hours were a constant battle, and I was in a constant state of exhaustion from working two to three jobs just to support myself. When I look back on those experiences, I truly loved baking, but the memories are so blurred from fatigue that all I remember is this constant feeling of trying to do everything I could to keep my head above the rising water of responsibilities. It was a bittersweet moment when I realized that I just couldn't afford to be a baker anymore, physically, emotionally, or financially.

I honestly believed baking was where I was supposed to be and it was such a devastating blow to realize the experience wasn't what I thought it would be. I had romanticized the life of a baker and reality was an unwelcome visitor.

The next few months I floundered around, uncertain of myself, uncertain where I belonged, worried my feet would never find the right footing. I continued to bake, but this time it was in my own kitchen, for myself (and for you). Baking has become a passionate hobby and I love enjoying the fruits of my labor. Don't worry; I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.

The constant throughout all of these changes in my life was my job as a math and science tutor. It took a few nudges and not so subtle hints from a few people (thanks, Kari!) to help me realize it may have been my calling all along. Right now, I am right back in grad school, but this time for education. In a twist of irony, I plan to become a high school teacher in physics. I begin student teaching in January. Life is full of surprises, it seems.

My mother once shared a few words with her vulnerable daughter that I have never forgotten. She said that some people follow a linear path, the destination laid out in front of them, always in sight. Other people follow a curved path, twisting and turning, the unknown lurking around the next corner. Both of these paths, though very different, lead us to the place we are meant to be. My path may be riddled with curves, but I've learned to embrace the zigs and zags of my road.

Persimmon Cake is a cake to be enjoyed at the start of the winter season. Very ripe persimmons are pureed and mixed into a simple cake batter. The cake bakes up moist and fragrant from the persimmon puree. A splash of apple juice and a hint of spice bring together the flavors in this lightly spiced dessert. A simple sprinkling powdered sugar is all this cake needs to complete an afternoon tea.

Note: Persimmons are typically available in grocery stores from October to December and may take a couple weeks to fully ripen. Buy them now and enjoy them in the weeks to come!

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Butternut Squash Cake with Cream Cheese Icing

Transformations take place within us every day. Most are so small they are unnoticeable, making tiny changes that move us forward in subtle ways. The large transformations are the moments we don't expect, moments that burst through our minds and our hearts, stealing the air in our lungs with sudden awareness and understanding of ourselves.

Transformations like the moment I realized I was capable of falling in love, as I stood on the Rialto Bridge in Venice, holding hands with a boy and overlooking the dark, moonlit water. The moment I realized a fierce independence lay inside me, as I cut through rough waves, grasping tightly onto a windsurfing board. The moment I realized I could write my own future, as I sat in an uncomfortable office chair, blinking at a bright computer screen full of numbers and symbols.

Transformations move mountains within our souls.

Books are one of the few ways to live a thousand different lifetimes. Each story I hear, whether read or told, opens a window into a new domain of different perspectives on myself and others. Books have the power to change me in both the small and big ways.

When I first encountered John Green's book, The Fault in Our Stars, I found myself sitting on my bed, clutching the book between my hands with a unique desperation. I stayed up late into the night as my eyes traveled over the words; I couldn't read fast enough to reach the next sentence and I couldn't read slow enough to allow myself to fully savor the moment. I laughed and cried simultaneously, my tears spilling onto the page, my heart full of emotion. When I closed the pages, I spent a rare moment in reflection.

The book changed me in that moment. Though I may never pinpoint the ways or means of the change, I could feel the transformation within me—real, raw, and pure.

Little moments are a minor key to the major chords in our lives. The beautiful kindness of a stranger who helps me pick up a pile of dropped books as I apologize for my clumsy nature. The rush of positive emotion brought on by a childhood smell I had forgotten existed. A message from a friend that arrives at precisely the right moment it needed to be heard.

The power of a revolutionary moment, whether large or small, should never be underestimated. An unassuming piece of cake on a dreary autumn afternoon can provide immeasurable comfort to a weary soul.

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Black Velvet Spider Cupcakes

In the middle of my childhood playroom sat a box of unspeakable horrors. Disguised as a brightly colored toy box, it frequently brought one of my adolescent fears to reality—my fear of spiders. The innocent toy box had a slight gap between the lid and the box. The occasional spider would crawl in under the cover of darkness leaving my sister and I to discover it in the morning. The toy box quickly became an object my sister and I dreaded to open. Though it held all of our favorite toys and games, we'd often weigh the possibility of finding spiders with childhood fun, deciding whether we wanted a toy badly enough to gamble the chance of arachnids.

The fear of spiders usually won.

When we were up for facing our fears, we'd slowly crack open the toy box together, our eyes immediately darting back and forth for signs of life (more often than not the spiders we encountered were already dead, but the sight of a spider, whether dead or alive, still elicited the same screams). Once the box stood open before us, we'd check whether the toy we desired sat on top or if it was buried deep in the pile. If it rested near the bottom of the box, the two of us would debate once more whether it was really really worth the chance.

If it was and we were feeling brave, I would roll up my sleeves, take a deep breath, and begin digging. As the older sibling, it was my responsibility to keep my little sister safe from the horrors of the world (and our toy box). Looking back, I can still feel the drop of my stomach and recall the real fear I felt as I carefully lifted each toy out of the way, inspecting it for creepy-crawlies.

Even today, the fears from childhood rush back whenever I must face the same toy box in my parent's basement to find a toy for a little cousin.

As I've grown older, my fear of spiders has, for most intents and purposes, disappeared. When I'm resting beneath the trees or walking on a nature trail, spiders and I can get along quite well together. I might even greet one hello if he treads close enough. Even so, I still don't like a visit from my spider friends when I'm not expecting it, as they dash across the bathroom floor when I step out of the shower or crawl up the white walls of the apartment as I'm watching television.

Afterwards, I can often be spotted chasing after them with a tissue, trying to convince the poor creatures that I'm not trying to kill them. After catching the frightened spider, I like to bring it outside and set him free. As I send him along his merry way, I politely ask him to visit the neighbors next time instead.

Black Velvet Spider Cupcakes are a wonderful addition to a Halloween menu. The flavor of the cupcakes match the classic red velvet cupcake, but are dyed black instead of the traditional red. These black velvet cupcakes can form the base of many Halloween inspired recipes, but today they are represented as frightful little spiders. A few decorative ingredients turn the black velvet cupcakes into creepy-crawly creatures which will (deliciously) frighten your guests.

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