Caramelized Leek, Basil, & Black Pepper Biscuits

Caramelized Leek, Basil, & Black Pepper Biscuits

Caramelized Leek, Basil, & Black Pepper Biscuits

Food has been a struggle for me the last couple months. After discovering that my body cannot process dairy during the completion of my month long vegan challenge back in June, it has not been easy for me to go dairy-free. Perhaps it seems a little counter-intuitive, but going vegan for a month was much easier than trying to be dairy-free for the last two months. In part, I think this may be because my month long vegan challenge was a personal choice and becoming dairy-free was a decision my body made for me.

Food and I have been at odds since, fighting the dance of siblings as we bicker over what I should put on my plate.

Caramelized Leek, Basil, & Black Pepper Biscuits Caramelized Leek, Basil, & Black Pepper Biscuits

I do fairly well when I eat alone in the confines of my apartment, cooking up meals for one in a place where I can control the amount of dairy in the refrigerator and cupboards. The real struggle begins the moment I step out of my safe haven. Restaurants have become the enemy; an unwanted challenge as I sift my way through what I can eat and what I can't eat on the menu, feeling little more than an irritation as I ask the waitress pointed questions and make half a dozen omissions and substitutions from the list of entrees.

I struggle with food because it puts my family in an awkward position as they try to make meals around my new disorder. My mother creates the most wonderful food—the vast majority of it made with dairy in one form or another—and I'm conflicted over asking her to leave it off the menu or keeping it on, since I don't want to deny anyone else the pleasures of her cooking. I struggle with food when my boyfriend casually suggests making macaroni and cheese for dinner, forgetting for a moment that I can't eat it, and making us both feel bad about the comment for different reasons—him, for making me remember my love for macaroni, and me, for refusing him a beloved food.

Caramelized Leek, Basil, & Black Pepper Biscuits

I struggle with food because so many of my favorite foods are now forbidden. Just because I cannot eat milk, cream, or cheese, doesn't mean I stopped enjoying them. I have cravings for fettuccine Alfredo and rich chocolate ice cream that refuse to disappear, no matter how much I will them away.

I struggle with food because I still want to share new and exciting desserts that are infused with cream and butter because, let's face it, cream and butter never stopped being delicious. In my own kitchen, I'll sometimes substitute margarine or alternative milks for recipes, but there are still occasions when I'll refuse to make pie without a buttery, flaky crust. I'm continuing to juggle this new world of food, trying my best to create recipes that work for me and you.

This journey has a long, long way to go, but I'm trying. Perhaps a little more time is all I really need.

Caramelized Leek, Basil, & Black Pepper Biscuits

Caramelized Leek, Basil, & Black Pepper Biscuits are packed with flavor. A basic biscuit dough is infused with freshly chopped basil leaves, caramelized leeks, and coarsely ground black pepper. While baking, the biscuits rise, becoming buttery and flaky. These biscuits make a wonderful side for a bowl of soup or casserole, but can stand alone for moments when a biscuit spread with a little butter is all you really need. For tips on creating mile-high biscuits, check this out!

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Banana Rum Bread

Banana Rum Bread

Banana Rum Bread

Like the ebb and flow of the ocean tides, inspiration seems to come and go with a steady rhythm. Some days it rides in on a large wave, electric and exciting as it washes over me. Eventually the inspiration is called back into the sea and I desperately grasp at the departing water, trying futilely to hold onto the last remains as it slides easily between my fingertips.

With the last burst of warmth before fall surrounding me, I've been feeling inspired by everything from the color of ripe peaches to the golden light before the sun sets.

Banana Rum Bread

This time the inspiration for this recipe unexpectedly stood out between a set of paragraphs—"Today I learned how to bake mean banana bread. The secret apparently is half a cup of dark rum." The baker in me, interest piqued, wondered if it could be true. Was this the secret to baking up a remarkable banana bread? With such a bold claim written in front of me, a secret ingredient exposed, the impulse to discover the truth propelled me forward.

The bananas were purchased. They rested on the counter until speckled and brown. The batter was mixed, the rum was added, and when the loaf emerged from the oven, hot and steamy, I didn't wait until it cooled to take a bite.

Puzzled, I took another taste. The rum, it seemed, was nowhere to be found.

Banana Rum Bread

In my sheer desire to taste the barest hint of rum, a third of the loaf disappeared in front of my searching eyes. Defeated, I divided up the rest to share with friends, hoping they could taste something I couldn't. Even so, the consensus was clear—though it was a good loaf of bread, it just didn't live up to my rum-infused expectations. I allowed myself to drift into other projects, forgetting about the loaf of bread. The banana bread, however, wasn't finished with me.

Out of the blue, my friend informed me that a couple of days later the banana bread had mysteriously changed in the night. It seemed the rum flavor missing on that crucial first day had finally come out to play. In disbelief, I rushed to the store to buy another set of bananas and the cycle repeated once more. With my patience tested, I waited the right amount of time for the rum to emerge before I took a bite. As promised, it was there, subtle and sneaky.

Inspiration, ever mysterious, likes to keep me on my toes, reminding me I can't always find it when I'm looking for it. Unpredictable, it can be found equally in a few words in a novel full of sentences or in the virtues of a friend who can hold out on a loaf of banana bread longer than myself.

Banana Rum Bread

Banana Rum Bread is a boozy twist on the traditional loaf of banana bread. Like a fine wine, the longer the banana bread rests on the counter top (or sits in the refrigerator), the stronger the rum flavor will develop. The first day the rum flavor is completely absent, but the subtle flavor slowly creeps in the following days, resulting in tingling tongues and happy taste buds. The banana bread batter is a very basic recipe so you could certainly throw in a pinch of cinnamon or a handful of chocolate chips if you desire, but the real star is the half a cup of dark rum.

Note: All of the rum does not bake out of the bread, so this is not an appropriate recipe to share with children.

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Multigrain Bread

Multigrain Bread

Multigrain Bread

Today marks the second anniversary (and the 250th recipe!) of this blog. It feels surreal to know that I've sat down at this computer three times a week for the last two years to share photographs, recipes, and stories with you. When I started this blog, it was on a whim. I knew nothing about cameras or photographing food, very little about creative writing, and wouldn't have referred to myself as a baker to anyone. It's funny how a couple years can completely turn those statements around.

I caught myself looking back over old recipes this afternoon. I remember much of the inspiration and emotions surrounding each and every one, surprising even myself. It's the words and stories that have slipped my mind. Traveling back in time, sometimes I impress myself with my posts, scarcely believing the words on the page spilled out from my fingertips; other times I want to bury my face in my hands, embarrassed that I displayed such an awful photograph for all of you to see. They say that artists are their own worst critic and I am inclined to agree.

Multigrain Bread Multigrain Bread

The most important thing I've learned about blogging is that it's a journey, not a destination. It's easy for blogging to become a list of mentions or a number of subscribers. Sometimes it's easy to lose sight of the reasons I started blogging in the first place. Blogging is a work in progress (and, to some extent, always will be).

Inspiration is the life blood of blogging. I let myself get swept away with the works of my favorite food photographers and writers. I try to push myself with food photography every time I'm behind a camera lens. I write in hopes of finding my elusive voice, wherever it may be hiding. I never let myself stray too far from the kitchen. As soon as I feel comfortable with where I am, I take a peek at the photographs of Katie Quinn Davies or open a book and read the words of Sue Monk Kidd and realize I have miles and miles left to go.

I love the journey.

Multigrain Bread

Most importantly, I want to thank you. You continually inspire me with your emails and comments. You make me smile when I learn you've experimented with my recipes in your own kitchen. You refuse to let me forget all of the reasons I love blogging, especially needed on those long nights when I'm up late editing photos. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Now, who is ready to find out what the next year will bring?

Multigrain Bread

Multigrain Bread is a hearty, healthy bread that's fitting for both special occasions and everyday eating. The bread is made with a mixture of bread flour, whole wheat flour, and oats. To give it a more diverse texture, sunflower and flax seeds are kneaded into the dough. Sliced thin, multigrain bread works well for sandwiches or toasted with a spread of butter for breakfast.

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