It’s been cold here, colder than usual. A cyclone hit last week. I’ve found myself hiding indoors – covered in layers on sweaters, socks and quilts, mug of piping hot lemon and ginseng tea in hand. Weather like this calls for comfort. Weather like this calls for cake.
There have been countless moments in my kitchen that have brought me to my knees. The challenges of the kitchen are my favourite kind. And although I’ve had many failures, disasters and infamous defeats – I believe these challenges are ones that teach us important lessons & make us stronger, wiser.
I’m really excited to share this breakfast post with you – partly because I have re-discovered the magic of home-made. Despite my best efforts to return to a forgotten and slower way of living, there are still some fast living, processed luxuries that I continue to indulge in. Eating un-seasonally, reverting into the man-made arms of my kitchen aid and devouring European yogurt on a regular basis are some of these things.
“If baking is any labour at all, it’s a labour of love. A love that gets passed from generation to generation” – Regina Brett
Another week, another cake. Like so many, I have a compulsive sweet tooth. Always have, always will. I feel such a strong gravitational pull towards the eating and baking of all sweet things. This is particular true when it comes to home-baked goods.
I believe that in this world, there are two types of people – those that do breakfast and those that do not. For a large portion of my life, I belonged to the latter. A serial breakfast monogamist – a basic egg, piece of fruit or yoghurt, granola and muesli seemed to be the few staples that could satisfy me. Though lately, I have been discovering the ritual of breakfast and the variety of foods it can encompass. The creative bug has crept in.