Babies and Brandy.

brandied tart cherries.

More than two weeks have floated by, after the birth of my second son.  He was born swiftly and smoothly on a beautiful Summer evening, 7 years to the day after his older brother.  To say that you can fall head over heels in love with another human being so quickly is an understatement of epic proportion.  He fits into our family in a way I couldn't have anticipated, and the darling boy even let me bake bread the day after I arrived home.

Physically, I feel like I can do anything.  Recovery time has also been fast, much faster than with my first son - and I feel like I have all of the energy I need to make up for lost time in the kitchen.  Grains have been sprouted, ferments set to bubbling, farmer's markets attended, and the only area I feel lacking in is actual meal planning.  Sporadic baby interruptions just before the dinner hour have slowed me up a little, and "piece catch" meals hit the table in great thanks to my freezer, garden basil, and last minute imagination.  When I was first married and working full time, I recall I used to actually plan meals in a little notebook... and I'm thinking it might not be a bad idea to bring that method back.

But meanwhile, things are good in my world.  Babies have a way of making everything feel fresh and amazing.  Kind of like a fresh bottle of brandy.  Before the comments of nursing mothers and alcohol come flooding in, I'm not actually drinking the brandy - and to be honest, despite brandy being the most often purchased liquor in my state, it's really not even my favorite.  But used to cook with or inoculate fruits?  It might just be my favorite thing ever.

click the photo for the recipe.

Alcohol in general is still not on my grocery list.  On the continuing path to our household economic recovery, (and fresh off the path of 9 months of abstinence anyway...) I can't see spending a red cent on something as trivial as alcohol - especially since it isn't really a necessity.  But my parents were here for a Sunday dinner when my newest babe was just 5 days old, I knew I had to have them try one of my favorite chicken-in-a-pot recipes from Dorie Greenspan's Around my French Table.  It's a recipe that calls for Armagnac, which is a spirit that I find completely wonderful, though prohibitively expensive to me.  Fortunately, if you enrich the much cheaper brandy with dried prunes and cook it with chicken, the flavor is stellar nonetheless. My Mom and Dad visited the first liquor store they have probably been in since before I was born to get me a bottle of brandy for the dish, and I've been making good use of the rest of the bottle in the days since that chicken was earnestly devoured.

My neighbor has a tart cherry tree in her back yard.  She generously offered them free for the picking, and another neighbor graciously offered to pick some for me, since we were in the midst of a heatwave.  The cherries were deliciously deep red, tart, and perfect, and I instantly knew I had to make brandied cherries.  The last time I made them was maybe 3 years ago, and I still have a handful of faded cherries submerged in liquor stashed in the back of my fridge.  I couldn't remember what ratio or recipe I used, so I went with one I found on Serious Eats.  The general ratio for that recipe was one part sugar (I used raw sugar), one part water (or cherry juice) to two parts brandy.  I didn't pit the cherries, and didn't bother to poke a needle through each one either:  I figured a bit of time on the counter and more time in the refrigerator would take care of any of that extra work for me - and I was right.  I let them sit out on the counter for a few days before transferring, and already the brandy was dark red and the cherries nicely spiked with flavor.

Some new friends recently transplanted back to the Midwest from Oregon stopped by yesterday to visit and thoughtfully brought me perfectly ripe raspberries.  I decided to try brandying the raspberries using mostly the same method, but using the ratio of 1 part each sugar (white granulated sugar in this case to preserve the true flavor of the raspberry), water, and brandy.  I packed the raspberries into clean pint jars, heated the sugar and water over medium heat until the sugar just dissolved, and then added the brandy off the heat.  Just standing overnight led to color saturated liquid that is less potent than the tart cherries, but so excellent tasting I can hardly wait to have an excuse to make a pound cake or some shortcakes, maybe even a "poke" type cake that can make use of the bright, spiked raspberry juice.  There are some words I hate using to describe food, and luscious is one of them... but these berries truly are luscious.

I might be silly to compare my new babe to a bottle of brandy.  But in a way, it fits.  When you don't have something for a long time, you can really appreciate it all the more, and that is how a second baby is for me.  I am reminded of how wonderful every new moment was with my first little son, and just what is is store for me with my second.  I marvel over impossible long eyelashes and tiny fingernails, I get to know all the expressions and nuances of a brand new personality, and savor each one for the fleeting moment in time I now know it is.  Like the bottle that empties too quickly, but lives on in what it has preserved, I document in both mental and physical photographs the new life I've been blessed with.  I will most happily decant both in the future and be able to feel as full of emotion as I am right now.

Currently, Currants.

Well, yesterday's doctor visit confirmed that baby number 2 will likely be late, like baby number 1 was.  Am I such a good hostess that my children just don't want to enter the world?  As I look past my tomorrow due date, I try to remember to be patient and also try to remember that there will still be a good amount of summer left after I get back to feeling normal.

Part of my impatience has to do with the normalcy that I crave.  Ordinarily, as soon as the weather warms I find myself interested in searching out new and different things to preserve and then beyond excited to take their pictures and write about them.  My new normalcy is the feeling that I can't really plan anything, go anywhere too far away, and certainly not to wait around on ripening produce.  It's frustrating for me because I'm not a good idler, I prefer my old spirit of juggernauting forward, that always propelling forward motion that feels so good, especially in the summertime.

When I woke up early on July 4th (every day, I wake up at exactly 5:22, don't ask me why...), I found a message from a localish orchard; the currants I'd been looking forward to experimenting with for the past 2 years were finally ready, and the farmers had two ice cream pails already picked and waiting for me if I was still interested, and hadn't had my baby yet.  For a brief moment, I felt my old self return.  I hopped out of bed and immediately searched my sources to see about how many currants I'd need to do the few things I had in mind.

I'm not  used to depending on others to do what I'd like, especially when it comes to climbing behind the wheel of the car and taking off on a whim.  In our family, I'm the usually always the driver, in part because I just love the road (and in part because I'm a terrible passenger).  But this close to a delivery date, I'm not driving much - and not very far.  I was actually surprised that my Husband offered to drive us down to the little farm where the currants were, even more surprised that he tried different varieties of currants and gooseberries, and was interested in the workings and stories that the husband and wife team running Klee's Out on a Limb Acres had to offer.  It was a perfect afternoon, and even though the journey wasn't actually so far away, it was was just rural enough to satisfy the summertime longings for the country that always plague me - and it was even better that my boys were both appearing to be enjoying every minute as much as I was.

Currant Jelly.

Last year, our whole state was devastated by a strange and early spring promptly followed by a killing frost.  Sadly it left us without many cherries, apples, and other orchard fruits, and when you could find them, they were almost prohibitively expensive.  The entire season was decimated for small timers like Klee's - they had no crops for sale last year at all - and that was the year that I read about them and found that they grew old-timey things I was looking for like gooseberry, quince, and currants.

I have had currants on the brain for two years.  It's been more than that long since I first had a tipple made by friends Paul and Lori of the Burp! blog, and I was really smitten.  Their liqueur had been aged for quite some time by the time I tried it, and it was earthy, complex, and just plain lovely.  As I'd never even seen currants growing, and never picked or tasted one, I longed to find a source so that I could anticipate tiny cupfuls of that delicious liqueur of my own making - and experiment with other things as I usually do when I get too excited over a new best friend and overbuy considerably.

Burp! Crème de cassis recipe.

I double checked with Lori to be sure the drink I had tasted so long ago was made with red currants and vodka, because as I recall it was dark in color and so deep and raisiny tasting I couldn't imagine the jewel red berries resting out so much.  I made the recipe exactly as they suggest, not adding or subtracting a single thing... and I plan to age it until at least Christmas before trying it.

I had just enough Mount Gay rum left in the bottle (given to me so I could make flourless chocolate rum cakes for a friend's birthday in January) to do a batch of Pam Corbin's Currant Shrub.  I was under the impression that shrubs were usually non-alcoholic, sweetened vinegar bases that were mixed with seltzer.  But, in her book The River Cottage Preserves Handbook, she details this one made with red currant juice and rum (or brandy).  Also taking several months to mature, I figured another thing to try around Christmastime would be welcome.

Pam's shrub is so easy to make.  I knew I was already doing a batch of currant jelly and simply steamed enough extra currants to allow for the 1 1/4 cups for this recipe.  Given my state of pregnancy, I steamed the berries on July 4th, and made the jelly and liqueurs the next day.  For every pound of currants, I used Linda Ziedrich's advice and added 1/2 cup of water.  (I did 4 1/2 lbs of currants and 2 1/4 cups water, and had more than enough juice for this recipe and a batch of jelly.)

Pam Corbin's Currant Shrub

•  1 1/4 c. red currant juice
•  2 1/2 c. rum (or brandy)
• finely grated zest of one orange
• 1 t. freshly grated nutmeg
• 1 1/2 c. granulated sugar

Mix the currant juice with rum (or brandy), orange zest, and nutmeg.  (Currants are naturally high in pectin, and adding the juice to alcohol may cause it to form a gel, as it did for me.  Corbin says it will turn back to a more liquid state after the sugar is added.)  Let this mixture stand for 7-10 days well sealed and in a dark place.

Transfer the mixture to a pan, add sugar and heat gently just to dissolve sugar, about 140 degrees.  Strain the mixture through muslin or cheesecloth, decant into a sterilized jar (I saved the rum bottle), seal tightly, and let age for several months (again, in a cool, dark place) before enjoying.  Drink within 2 years.

The way the currant juice gelled with the alcohol and suspended the orange zest within the jar was absolutely mesmerizing.  As was the intoxicating (literally) scent of warm orange, nutmeg, rum, and currant.  It was hard to stash this one away in a dark place, I can tell you that.

After I had my liqueurs underway and tucked away, I tackled the jelly - which is so simple.  Both Linda Ziedrich and Pam Corbin  had methods that used equal measures juice and sugar - so I used 4 cups juice and 4 cups raw sugar.  I thought maybe I'd like to add something "unique" to the jelly, but once the sugar dissolved and I tasted it, I couldn't bear to mar the clean flavor.  It is simple and delicious, and though I've pledged not to overmake in the preserves department this year, the 5 half pints of jelly are very welcome on my shelf!

Sugar preserved quince, and fresh currant jelly.

I couldn't be happier with this 4th of July, and even though my spirits were dampened a bit with the thoughts of an overdue baby, I have to say the currants broke me free of feeling a bit sorry for myself.  If you are local and looking for a nice little farm to pick your own currants, gooseberries, quince, elderberries and other old-fashioned orchard fruits, check out Klee's!  They have a webpage, and update a Facebook page (and are quick to return questions if you give them a call.  Give them a "like" to stay updated, and take a little drive.  Candy shared with me a little jar of quince, which was also a first taste for me.  If I'm feeling up to it, I plan to get some to play around with... just as soon as it ripens, and this baby comes!

Daring Bakers June 2013: Pie.

Rachael from pizzarossa was our lovely June 2013 Daring Bakers’ host and she had us whipping up delicious pies in our kitchens! Cream pies, fruit pies, chocolate pies, even crack pies! There’s nothing like pie!

Pie is kind of near and dear to my heart.  In my early twenties I got to work and live above a pie shop that was nestled within a small, western Wisconsin town that at times would remind you of Twin Peaks or Northern Exposure.  I was able to eat a good amount of pie in those days, so much that it was several years after leaving the place that I actually took to making pie at home again.

I know it is said that there are cake people and there are pie people.  If pressed, I'm definitely a cake person.  I think mostly that is because I can make a cake with my eyes closed, even fancy layer cakes.  Pie takes more time and dedication; I usually reserve it for special occasions when I want to either impress someone or show them how much I love them.

I figured I'd try to knock this one last post and challenge out before the baby comes, seeing that I'll probably lay low in both the bakery and sugar departments after the new one enters the world.  I decided to make it for Father's Day, and I chose the Momofuku Milk Bar's "Crack Pie", even though drug-referenced baked goods tend to grate on my nerves.

Fortunately for me, this Crack Pie could have just as easily been named for the sound it makes when you lift a piece from the pie plate:  it's gooey and caramelly (even more caramelly in my case because I used dark brown sugar instead of light), and is not unlike eating the guts from a pecanless pecan pie (which just happens to be my Husband's favorite type).  Tucked within a freshly made oatmeal cookie crust, I'm not sure a better pie could be made with pantry staples.  I know this one is going to be a favorite for years to come.

Begin the day before you'd like to eat the pie, as it needs to chill thoroughly to be at its best.  I found that it was also a "good keeper", and pieces from the 4th and 5th day after baking were just as delicious as those the day after.

Momofuku Milk Bar's Crack Pie 
(12 slices)

Oat Cookie Crust

9 tablespoons (1 stick + 1 tbsp) (125g) unsalted butter, room temperature, divided
5 1/2 tablespoons (70 gm) packed light brown sugar, divided (I used dark brown sugar to good effect)
2 tablespoons (30 gm) granulated sugar
1 large egg
3/4 c. plus 2 tablespoons (80 gm) old-fashioned oats
1/2 c. (70 gm) all-purpose flour
1/8 t. baking powder
1/8 t. baking soda
1/4 t. kosher salt

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to moderate 350°F.  Line a sheet pan with parchment (baking) paper. Lightly spray or butter a 9 inch diameter glass or ceramic pie dish, and set aside.

Combine 6 tablespoons (85 gm) of the softened butter, 4 tablespoons (50 gm) of the brown sugar and the white sugar in medium bowl. Using an electric mixer, beat until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes.  Add egg and beat until pale and fluffy, about 1 minute.  Add oats, flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt and beat until well blended, about 1 minute.  Dump oat mixture into prepared baking sheet and press out evenly into a large, flat cookie shape.

Bake until light golden, 18 minutes. Transfer baking pan to wire rack and cool cookie completely, about an hour.

Using your fingertips, (or a food processor as I did,) crumble the cookie a into large bowl - there should be no identifiable pieces of cookie remaining. Add the remaining 3 tablespoons (45 gm) butter and 1-1/2 tablespoons (20 gm) brown sugar. Rub in with your fingertips until the mixture is moist and sticks together when pressed between your fingers.

Transfer cookie crust mixture to pie dish. Using your fingers, press mixture evenly onto bottom and up sides of pie dish (about 1 inch/2.5cm up the sides if your pie dish is deep). If your pie dish is shallow, place it on a baking sheet in case of overflow.  (I think it's a good idea to do this anyway, it provides a little extra protection for overbrowning of the bottom crust.)

Filling

3/4 c. (170 gm) granulated sugar
1/2 c. packed (100 gm) light brown sugar (I used dark brown sugar)
1 T. (8 gm) dry milk powder
1/4 t. salt
1/2 c. (1 stick or 115gm) unsalted butter, melted, cooled slightly
6 1/2 T. (100ml) heavy whipping cream
4 large egg yolks
1 t. vanilla extract
powdered sugar for dusting

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to moderate 350°F. If possible, use bottom-only heat, or the filling may brown too quickly. (Because I used dark brown sugar, I knew the pie would brown faster.  I needed to cover it loosely with foil about half way through the baking time.)

Whisk both sugars, milk powder, and salt together in a medium bowl, then add melted butter and whisk until blended.  Add cream, then egg yolks and vanilla and whisk again until well blended.

Pour filling into crust.  Bake for 30 minutes (filling may begin to bubble up), then reduce oven temperature to 325°F and continue to bake until filling is brown on top and set around edges but center still jiggles slightly, about 20 minutes longer.  (Check and cover with foil as mentioned above if the pie is browning too quickly.)

Cool pie completely in pie dish on wire rack. Chill uncovered overnight.  Before serving, sift powdered sugar lightly over top of pie. Cut pie into thin wedges (or as thin as you can manage after you taste it) and serve cold.

I'm  not sure I have a favorite type of pie, but after tasting this one, I could think of nothing else.  Even though I'm not as motivated in the kitchen lately, I have witnessed the return of my severe sweet tooth - and I have all kinds of pie recipes bookmarked that need to be made, or that I've convinced myself need to be made.

click the photo for recipe.

This was the cherry pie I made earlier in the month. It turned out to be an excellent pie as well, and easy because I used some home-canned cherries that I had been hoarding.  I don't see a reason (except for perhaps lack of sleep) that I won't get to bake at least one pie next month - so stay tuned.  This may turn out to be the summer of pie.  After all, if I continue to reward myself with homemade sweets made with less sweetener, how bad can that be?

Meanwhile, the Daring Bakers will have a lot of pies to peruse.  Be sure to check out the blogroll and the recipes for this month's challenge.  See you all on the other side of a new baby!

Book Review: Deliciously Holistic by Shelly Alexander

 I'm closing in on the 3 week mark before the new baby arrives.  In spite of my enormous belly, I still feel like a long-legged stork will in fact drop the little parcel wrapped in pink or blue cloth on the doorstep and be gone in the blink of an eye.  But I know that isn't the case, especially with the lack of appetite I've had lately.

Even though I haven't felt a whole lot like eating - or at least eating very much at one sitting - I have felt like reading about food.  It's probably the first time in years that I've been current on my feedly blog stream.  I have a record number of books on my shelves from the library, and I even had the time to read a book for review from cover to cover:  Deliciously Holistic by Shelly Alexander, CHFS.  What attracted me to this book was the description, "There is a simple, easy-to-follow recipe for eating healthy, delicious foods that can also lead you on an enjoyable path to vibrant health."

I was particularly interested in this claim because I read a lot on whole food diets and I know first hand just how confusing all of it can be.  Keeping all of the linguistics of whole food eating can be daunting as well, and just where should a person new to the idea of a whole foods diet start?  I found this book to be a very good resource for someone just starting out in holistic eating.  It gives a broad overview of healthy diet without subscribing to just one diet trend (vegan, paleo, primal, vegetarian), but includes simple, tasty recipes for those who might already follow any one of those diets.  It also confirms a lot of information I've already gained from reading about and following a mostly holistic diet for some time.

It's been a good 3 years since I ditched my microwave, gave up boxed cereal, and in general started taking more hands on control of my own diet.  That also directly translated to the diets of my immediate family so much as I can help it.  I try not to be militant, but also aim for consistency.  Most food in my house is slow food.  I take genuine pleasure in adding new kitchen processes that are (hopefully) healthier than packaged or more convenient counterparts.  I've become a real bread baker, all my beans are soaked and cooked from dried, and I try to focus on purchasing raw materials and then making the most of them as the mood strikes me.

This means thinking ahead a good part of the time, and in the cases where I haven't thought ahead, it causes me to be creative in coming up with nutritious meals for my family.  It definitely helps to be consistently reading real food blogs and cookbooks, and like I said, Deliciously Holistic would be an excellent first step resource for someone completely new to the lifestyle changes that whole food diets require.

 

Another thing I appreciated about the book were the simple recipes.  So often, real food recipes are overwhelming, especially to those new to eating that type of diet, and these recipes are simple enough for those who are even new to cooking from scratch.  And this isn't just a vegan or vegetarian book, either.  There are plenty of recipes for fish and meat entrees that

For those unfamiliar with making homemade, alternative milks, there are a number of creative non-dairy drinks, plenty of flavor combinations I've never seen or considered before like Carrot Pecan Milk or Nectarine Walnut Milk.  The recipe for Orange Ginger Pumpkin Seed Milk sounded particularly good to me, and it surely did not disappoint.  It was a refreshing change from ordinary homemade almond or coconut milks, and had a truly nourishing taste to it that just felt comforting to drink. 

As Alexander explains, nuts and seeds are usually best soaked or sprouted because it breaks down their enzyme inhibitors.  I've gotten rather used to soaking and sprouting, and a bit of planning ahead doesn't bother me at all.  For this recipe, you'll need to soak the pumpkin seeds in filtered or spring water for 4-6 hours before continuing.  Be sure to use an organic orange for the juice and zest, non-organic are often waxed and artificially colored.

Orange Ginger Pumpkin Seed Milk  (Shelly Alexander, CHFS - Deliciously Holistic)

yields about 4 1/2 cups

• 3 cups filtered or spring water
• 1 1/4 c. soaked pumpkin seeds
•  3 T. coconut sugar, 3 pitted dates, or stevia to taste (I used dates)
• 1 t. fresh peeled ginger, grated 
• 1/4 c. fresh squeezed orange juice
• 1/4 t. grated orange zest

Blend all the ingredients in a blender until creamy and smooth.  Taste and add more sweetener to your preference.  Strain with a nut milk bag, or other fine strainer (a homemade bag made of unbleached muslin will also work just fine).  Milk will last 3-5 days in the refrigerator.

 

I have a high-speed Vitamix blender, so I don't have to be too careful about chopping up things like ginger and dates, but you may have to take more care with a regular blender.  The finished drink is the palest green and has a very unique flavor.  It's definitely a recipe I'll make again, and I'm excited to try many of the other alternative milks in Deliciously Holistic this summer as well!

Disclaimer:  I received a copy of Deliciously Holistic for review.  As always, all opinions are my own!  You can find a copy of the book for sale on Amazon, or through Shelly's website where you can also find more recipes and whole food information.

Sprouted Wheat, Sprouted Almond, and Orange Biscotti

I had a moment of shear panic this morning, which happened at the doctor's office.  No, nothing is physically wrong with me or my rapidly growing baby... but since I am phobic of all things medically (and pregnancy) related, I found out today that I'm only 6 weeks away from our new family member.  For some reason, I thought I had two months left, which is 8 weeks by my count.  That's 2 extra weeks of procrastination and preparation, 2 weeks that could add to my sanity of status quo around my house.

What's more, I could be early to deliver (which for some reason, I've convinced myself I will be) - shaving those precious moments of a 3 member household ever more closely.  Thinking of things about to change is both exhilarating and petrifying.  What if the baby prevents me from breadmaking?  What happens if I don't get to sprouting the grains I'd like?  After brief moments of self-centered kitchen problems, I realize that I will always make time for the bread, the grains.  It's likely the laundry, lawn mowing, and sometime gardening will be the first to suffer.  And anyway, as soon as I see that new babe, nothing else will matter - perhaps not even the sourdough.

I also realize that I haven't been as prolific at writing things down as I usually am, and it's not for lack of making and eating.  Maybe it's lack of inspiration, and a tinge of laziness that prevents me from getting the camera out of my hand an onto a tripod to steady it.  But today in anticipation of a weekend trek to my Parents farm, I had the idea to make sprouted grain biscotti - and the lit-lightbulb-above-head to put it down into words for you.

The biscotti I made my Dad for his birthday in March was a hit, and while the first batch today (traditionally made with slightly less sugar than the Cook's Illustrated Best Recipe version) was in the oven, I figured that I had just enough sprouted wheat berries left in the freezer to try a batch with sprouted flour.  While I was at it, I transformed it into a true whole food recipe and replaced the sugar with rapadura: a whole sugar that retains some of its mineral content from the whole sugar cane.

My result was a crispy biscotti that is decidedly unsweet - I might try adding a couple tablespoons of honey to the next batch - but fully enjoyable.  It's earthy, and just what you'd expect from a coffee-time treat with decidedly wholesome roots.  Increase the rapadura up to 1 cup total if you'd prefer a sweeter confection.

Sprouted Wheat, Sprouted Almond, and Orange Biscotti (adapted from Cook's Illustrated The Best Recipe Cookbook - the one published in 1999)

• 2 c. sprouted wheat flour
• 1 t. baking powder
• 1/4 t. salt
• 4 T. room temperature, unsalted butter 
• 1/2 c. rapadura
• 2 large eggs
• 1/2 t. vanilla extract
• 1/4 t. almond extract
• 3/4 c. sprouted almonds, coarsely chopped
• zest from one orange

With oven rack in the center of the oven, preheat the oven to 350.  Whisk the flour, baking  powder, and salt together.

In a large bowl, cream the butter and rapadura together with a hand mixer for 2 minutes, until light and fluffy.  Add the eggs one at a time, and beat for 1 minute after each addition.  Add the extracts, the orange zest, and the sprouted almonds and mix to combine.  Sprinkle the sprouted flour mixture over the top and stir well by hand until just combined.  (Dough will be a little sticky.)

On a silicone mat (or parchment) lined baking sheet, divide the dough into 2 equal portions.  Using dampened hands, stretch and pat each portion into a log about 2 inches wide and 13 inches long.  The tops should be flattened.

Bake for about 30 minutes until golden brown, and the tops have small cracks in them.  Remove from the oven and let cool on the pan for 10 minutes.  Reduce the oven heat to 325.

After 10 minutes, slice each log on a diagonal into 3/8 inch slices.  Place on a baking sheet and bake for about 15 minutes longer (flipping them over halfway through the baking time) until the biscotti is crisp and lightly brown.  Cool completely, and store in an airtight glass container.

The texture of sprouted wheat biscotti is a bit more tender; it has less of the biscotti trademark of tooth-breaking snap, the one only tamed by dunking it into a hot cup of coffee.  It has a more gentle and polite bite.  I've laid off the coffee, especially in the afternoon, but I'd suspect it would crumble to the bottom of a cup to be happily rescued by a spoon.  Citrus and coffee are such happy complements in my opinion.

So, I spent most of the day in the company of biscotti.  And very shortly, I recognize that I might not have hours to spend this way, in my own way.  I enjoy my own company and that of the baked goods.  I enjoy the calisthenics happening so frequently now in my belly, and more than anything, I enjoy thinking about just who this new person will be - a bread obsessed toddler who will happily share my tartine lunches of beets and avocado and tomato?  A mere 6 weeks until I can begin to know, and begin that new chapter that I thought was so far away.