Hot Strawberry Cake with Ice Cream
No, YOU’ve made 80 different versions of the same cake because you care more about eating cake than you do about seeming creative.
One of many awesome things about being a food blogger is that I can do whatever I want. I’m my own boss. I can make 800 variations on this cake because it’s amazing and delicious and I want to eat 800 variations of it. I can use this space to tell the stories I want to tell and share the food I want to share.
But I’ve noticed around the interwebz that some people seem confused about what blogs are and whether blogs are the right choice for their food/reading needs. Some people would actually be better served by recipe websites like Food Network or AllRecipes. So I’m going to help you out.
Here’s how to tell if you should be using a BLOG or a RECIPE WEBSITE:
Lemon Blueberry Gooey Butter Cake
Wow, anyone else feel that? That 180-degree instant shift in mood? Kristen’s post about February blues resonated with me. February is so hard, but I also have the more generalized winter blues. I can feel the doom set in as soon as the blue skies change to gray and the rain, wind, and ice roll in. I can hardly enjoy fall anymore just because I know winter is on its way, and with it depression and lack of motivation. Ugh.
But this morning!!
Giant Skillet Lemon Sugar Cookie
Nothing makes me more hopeful and more determined (and in some ways, more frustrated) than listening to my 13- and 14-year-old students put on their heavy armor at such a young age. The other day I was grading tests with a few girls in my room during lunch. They had a Taylor Swift song playing in the background and we were chatting about the music video when one of them said wistfully, “She’s so pretty.”
I walk a careful line at this juncture. Even after years of reading, thinking, learning, feeling, it’s still a tightrope.
Hot Cranberry Orange Cake
On the last day of school before winter break, the entire middle school sits around in jammies, performs holiday skits, and exchanges white elephant gifts. Last year around this time I was still trying to find my place in a new city and a new school. I hadn’t been a new teacher in so long that I’d forgotten how kids don’t immediately love you. They don’t get your jokes. They don’t know with what weight to interpret your reactions. They don’t know if it’s cool to want to be around you. You spend a lot of time strategizing about where to sit, what to do, and what to say to introduce yourself day after day. Even once the kids choose you as their own, you must continue to nestle into the fabric of your colleagues and learn the culture of the school. All this while you’re struggling to manage the simplest things: trying to find the closest gym or the best route to work. It was a hard year.