It has been a long time. Please forgive the pause on those lovely, blasted bananas.
I have been cooking a lot actually (soups, salads, these incredible bean brownies), but I've been projecting and whining: no one wants to eat my funky food. No one wants to eat my good food. Standstill. Standoff. What does one make when no one wants to eat?
The answer came in a roundabout way. I spent one morning a couple weeks ago woeful, noticing things like how the mockingbirds are back. I knew they were back not because there was suddenly an abundance of fake calls from the pheobe birds or crows. I knew because the sunny day was suddenly full of sounds that seemed vaguely familiar and--off. The mockingbirds I heard that morning (and mornings long ago and many mornings since) are apparently fond of electronics. Car alarms, telephone rings, cellular ringtones, even the slow string of beeps the garbage truck backing up. This is where I live.
And then Heidi saved the day. She posted a blog about an upcoming cookbook utilizing a variety of whole grain flours. I sigh in a flutter of spring-fever. Whole grain baking. It even sounds wholesome, warm like an oatmeal colored sweater worn on an appropriately cool day. And, it reminds me of the absolutely priceless scene from "Stranger Than Fiction," where Will Ferrell brings Maggie Gyllenhaal "flours." What a way to a baker's heart!
But back to the scones. The fig scones use non other than the stewed figs I've been staring down and dreaming about since my sister's birthday dinner. Figs stewed in wine and port and sent through the food processor until smooth. A little extra butter and what do you have? The most tantalizing way to use up those pesky leftover figs (oh, to have pesky leftover figs!).
You can get the recipe here. Do visit her, she is my go-to when I need a restart in the vegetarian and whole foods department.
The scones were fabulous. Fig and buckwheat! They were everything she said they would be: sweet, jammy, and absolutely delicious. They were another beginning, albeit a little misshapen.
To answer the question (in case you were wondering): "what does one make when no one wants to eat?" It is like other creative conundrums. Answer: Ignore the problem. Ignore the critics. Ignore those who love your food and want to make you the cooking queen. Ignore those who want to throw you and your dinner in the river. Take critiques; take advice; take requests. But in the end, just cook the food. Cook what you must. Those who really don't want to eat, won't. Those who don't like what you make will leave more for you, for later. It is not your job to control another person's consumption habits. So cook! Bake! You'll probably be a nicer person to be around. I think I am.