I made Szarlotka, an apple pudding cake. This was a recipe from Dobre Dobre by Laurel Kratochvila, one of my April book club selections. It is the only recipe I have tried from this book, and it was too my mind worth the price of the book, even if I never bake anything else. The other two books that were on my agenda last month remain in Purgatorio, awaiting a decision. This one I will keep.
Szarlotka, at least this version, is a moist, cool apple pudding type of cake, neither pie, nor cake,nor pudding, but an amalgam of the three. It is filled with chunks of moist apple, surrounded by cool sweet pudding and cake. I love it cold either for dessert, where ice cream is nice, or cream I suppose, or sliced with coffee in the morning.
Otherwise life is quiet. I told you about our farm adventure. I realized something that weekend, and Garbo and I have been sitting outside in the mornings, while I drink my coffee and journal. I struck me that I don’t need a farm to get away from the world, that this sense of haven that I found there is what I have been aiming for in my garden, this sense of slightly wild overabundance creating a little bubble of peace in my suburban neighborhood.
So there are weeds. Weeds will always be with us. Some of the weeds I like at the moment, although I may well pay a price for them later on. The vetch has been in bloom and I love the waves of purple blossoms. I have not yet gotten to that area of the yard anyway, so I shall accept Mother Nature’s gifts. A weed is a plant that is simply not where it is wanted by humans. Nature itself has no such classification system.
There are some small boons.
- It has finally rained
- the irrigation system is finally open for the season should the rain stop again.
- I have two large leaf bags filled with thistles in the garbage can for pickup today (as I do not (yet) have a hot compost setup to dispose of them).
- My new neighbors admired my “pollinator garden” and I realized that it is long past the time I stopped noticing (and judging) only the things I haven’t done. Life is a story of progress. Learning to accept that it is never finished, is a life lesson.
- I see that my garden is a peaceful haven, for me, for wildlife, even for bunnies, and I see that my efforts are paying off in that the underlying structure I have been aiming for is finally taking shape.
- I filled the planters
- I am starting to dream about gardening again.
Garbo is ready to welcome you to our little haven.
This year I placed the ferns on the step rather than in the tall planters by the door. Last year I decided they were too large for that space — they seemed to be constantly in the way. This year I have streptocarpella by the door. Hopefully they will drape nicely although I wonder if I should have planted some tall grass in the middle of the pot. I am still contemplating a smaller pot in front of the ferns. None of this is important, it simply makes me happy.
For years, decades even, I wanted to be something, be someone, do something important, strive for something outside myself. Now I think I want to just be here, now.