Lavender Lemonade

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Lavender Lemonade

Lavender Lemonade

The heat of the summer sun feels like a light kiss in the cool morning air. The bright rays land lightly on my skin, feeling warm and rosy against the crisp breeze fading away from the rising sun. Morning light makes me want to lie in the dew-kissed grass, ignore the damp clothes sticking to my skin, close my eyes, and revel in the warmth of the beginning of a new day. I want to take in these small moments—indulge in their sweetness. Even though I'm given a new opportunity each morning to do so, I don't take it.

Instead I spend my morning on the couch, behind glass, only noting the sun's presence from the glare across the television screen. I greet the sun in late morning as I walk to my car, not out of choice, but out of necessity. It leaves me wondering: where did I go wrong?

Lavender Lemonade

I have dreams about the person I wish to become one day. I want to be the woman who keeps a clean house (and doesn't let the dishes pile up on the countertop). I want to be the woman who keeps wildflowers in a vase by the window. I want to be the woman who listens to jazz music instead of watching reality television. But mostly, I want to be the woman who reads on her porch in the morning sun with her bare toes digging into the cool grass.

Maybe someday I will be all of these things... or maybe I will ever stay the same, not quite finding my way out of this groove. Until then, I may not enjoy the sweetness of the morning sun, but I can get sullied up in the afternoon heat and be glad I already am the woman who can make the perfect summer lemonade.

Lavender Lemonade
Lavender Lemonade

Lavender Lemonade is tart, tingly, and deliciously pink. The flavors of lemon and lavender come together so seamlessly, so effortlessly, that one sip will convince you they were meant to be together. Fragrant and fruity, this lemonade has made a home in my heart. It will be certain to cool you down on any warm summer's day.

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Coconut Nutmeg Pudding

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Coconut Nutmeg Pudding

Coconut Nutmeg Pudding

The apartment lifestyle is peculiar. I'm surrounded by people, dozens of people, but we all are strangers to one another. On the rare occasion we pass in the hallway on our way to here or there, a nod of acknowledgment is often given, but seldom a word is spoken. It astounds me how it's possible to share a wall with another person for months without quite knowing who lives on the other side.

If anything, I'd like to apologize to the person who has to listen to me watch Game of Thrones well into the night hours.

Coconut Nutmeg Pudding

My windows overlook the balconies of another apartment building. Though I may not know my own neighbors, I feel I've gotten to know a little bit about my neighbors across the way—a small peek into their lives from the view on the balcony. On the third floor, there is a tall man who steps out for a smoke each morning, mug of coffee in hand. Leaning against the railing, he blows his cigarette smoke into the wind, curiously never taking a sip of the drink he brought with him.

A man on the second floor leaves his blinds open late into the evening. Though I've never seen his face, I can see the twinkling of his television through the window as he settles into another night of watching ESPN.

A woman on the first floor fills her balcony with plants. Green leaves dangle from the ceiling, just touching the bright, beautiful flowers spilling out of planters on the floor. Each morning before the heat of the day swells in, she can be found with a watering can in hand, tending to her plants. Her garden is a lovely sight to behold. I wonder if she ever wishes her garden could grow larger, sprawling out on the apartment lawn. I know I would welcome it.

Coconut Nutmeg Pudding

The last woman is a quiet, tender soul. With a scarf wrapped around her head, she sits outside on a blue beach chair with a book in her hands. She reads for hours, as the sun streaks across the sky, occasionally reaching for the bowl of mixed nuts that rests beside her chair. Periodically I'll join her by sitting out on my own balcony and reading. I wonder what type of books she likes to read. I wonder if she has any to recommend.

Of all of my neighbors, I feel a connection with her the most. Perhaps that's what is most important when you're living in an apartment building, surrounded by people, but living alone. Connection. Though I may never meet these people or shake their hands, the small peak into their lives makes me feel attached to them, bringing me just a little bit closer to the new place I've chosen to call home.

Coconut Nutmeg Pudding

This Coconut Nutmeg Pudding is simple, but elegant. Made with coconut milk and thickened with cornstarch, the pudding has a silky smooth texture. A hint of nutmeg truly rounds out the coconut flavor in an unexpected, delightful manner with a topping of toasted coconut to finish off the pudding. Served warm or chilled, this pudding is comfort food at its finest.

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Toffee Chocolate Chip Cookies

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Toffee Chocolate Chip Cookies

Toffee Chocolate Chip Cookies

For the month of June, I've decided to go vegan. It's more of a personal challenge to myself than a moral or ethical decision. Growing up in meat and potatoes country, I've never struck issue with eating meat. Both sets of my grandparents were farmers and ranchers, raising crops and cattle and working off the land. The farm was my second home when I was younger. Rooting around the big red barn and watching cattle through barbed wire fences was a regular pastime. I was raised on meat from my uncle's farm. He made a homemade sausage so good that my family would freeze it so we could enjoy it every month of the year.

You could say, in a way, that farm life is in my blood—that meat is in my blood.

Toffee Chocolate Chip Cookies

Even so, I've always been curious about veganism. It's intimidating to me, honestly. I rely so heavily on dairy and egg products in my everyday life, typically grabbing a yogurt and an egg sandwich for a meal. Part of the reason I wanted to challenge myself with a month of veganism was to force myself to explore new foods, eat more fruits and vegetables, and get cooking in the kitchen. I wonder how my body will feel after a month without consuming any animal products. I fear I will have a hard time eating enough protein.

A year and a half ago, I was a vegetarian for a few months. It wasn't necessarily a conscious decision so much as it was a necessary one. Living in Montreal, Quebec, was expensive and I simply couldn't afford the high price of meat as a poor college student. However, becoming a vegetarian in a big city was almost effortless. Becoming a vegan in North Dakota, where grocery stores only hold three packages (not brands or types) of tofu will be an entirely different story. Vegans are few and far between in meat and potatoes country. I'll certainly be out of my element, but that is just another difficult part of the challenge.

Toffee Chocolate Chip Cookies

Over the last week I've slowly been emptying my cupboards of "forbidden foods." I've finished the milk, eaten the yogurt, consumed the cans of soups, and said my goodbyes to my dear friend, butter. Despite my best efforts to clean out the cupboards, I still had a shelf of soon-to-be banned baking supplies. These cookies were born out of the last of the forbidden foods, featuring toffee pieces and chocolate chips.

As I experiment with this new lifestyle over the next month, I have a promise I want to make to you. I am going to do my best to continue to keep my foods approachable, delicious, and to use familiar, everyday ingredients you already have in your kitchen. My baking and recipes may be vegan, but they don't need to shout it from the rooftops. I'll keep you updated on this journey of mine—I can only wonder how it will play out.

Toffee Chocolate Chip Cookies

These toffee chocolate chip cookies are an "everything but the kitchen sink" cookie, featuring a little bit of this and that. Oatmeal, chocolate chips, toffee pieces, and chopped almonds come together to create a crunchy, hearty cookie that just begs to be dunked in a glass of milk. These cookies are dangerous when lying around the house. You might find yourself sneaking three or four in a day's time.

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