Tag: breakfast

Autumn Spice Smoothie

Autumn Spice Smoothie

I’m not a breakfast person, but I am a fan of early mornings. Lately, I’ve been trying to wake up earlier to get a quieter, slower start to the day, but the result is that by the time I make it home from the shop 

Ginger Scones for Monday Blues

Ginger Scones for Monday Blues

Monday, Monday. Don’t despair. It means you’re one day closer to the start of the weekend than you were last night. You know what makes Monday mornings better? Popping some frozen scones you made over the weekend into the oven while you’re in the shower. 

Rye Blueberry Pancakes and Where the Hell I’ve Been

Rye Blueberry Pancakes and Where the Hell I’ve Been

Pfft. Every post can’t just be excuses about why I haven’t been posting, so I am going to try to at least tack a recipe on the end this time around. Feel free to skip to the end if that’s what you’re after. I have been busy, though. Is there anything quite as thick and long as summer on the peninsula? I’ve been waking up early for sunrise walks by the Han, before the day gets too heavy. It helps me clear my head — you’d be surprised, maybe, how busy this city remains throughout the weekdays, unless you rise at dawn.

sunrise on the han

Around the last time I posted, I had concocted a somewhat harebrained Plan B before I’d even given A a try, but then somehow the universe turned over and spat out a handful of opportunities, like it always seems to do. Self-sabotage is one of my fortes, but something always seems to get in the way. Translation work has been surprisingly steady (and challenging, interesting and decently paid). I’ve had some god’s-honest writing work as well, all of it dropped into my lap. I’m working now on running out and getting some for myself. Probably the most pleasant news is that there will very likely be some literary translation to come, which I thought would be out of reach for a while yet, but like I said, opportunities.

I’m not saying there’s a god, or anything like that, but what I feel like lately is that whatever’s kept me going so far in life seems to be fed up with the begging off and bowing out. Korea was a plan B, teaching was a plan B, language school, grad school, maybe even the magazine was a plan B. Or maybe I just let stuff happen the way it needed to. It’s hard to know. But how I’m feeling now is like the table’s been set right in front of me, and I’ve got to do is pick up a fork and dig in.

So I’m going to give that a shot.

Speaking of tables and digging in…

rye blueberry pancakes 1

I’ve become very fixated on rye flour. I’ve been subbing it into everything — brownies, muffins, pizza dough, pancakes.  There’s something about that rich, slightly salty, earthy flavor. It wasn’t that long ago that our wheat flour used to taste like something. Now we remove all the flavor in the processing. But rye’s flavor remains, and I like experiencing the flour as an element of taste, as well, I guess. I’ve also been putting black pepper in all my desserts, which I will get to eventually. I promise I’m not pregnant.

rye blueberry pancakes 3

These rye blueberry pancakes made for a nice Liberation Day brunch this past Monday, which was followed by a Hitchcock marathon. It was a nice weekend, and the last one, I hope, we spend huddled inside under the air-conditioning. I don’t mean to be that person, but fall is sort of almost here? Indulge me. We all have our wishful thoughts.

rye blueberry pancakes 3

Continue reading Rye Blueberry Pancakes and Where the Hell I’ve Been

Mugwort Magic and Korean Twisted Donuts

Mugwort Magic and Korean Twisted Donuts

Mugwort is a magical plant. The Romans used to stick it in their shoes to protect them from exhaustion on long journeys by foot, and in medieval Europe, it was used to ward off evil spirits — in Germany, it is sometimes called St. John’s 

Dutch Baby Pancakes With Cherry Compote

Dutch Baby Pancakes With Cherry Compote

There’s nothing that makes me want to drop everything and hightail it to the country like summer. It’s not quite here yet, but it’s on its way, and the evidence is showing up everywhere at the markets. Summer is a crazy time on a farm.