Chocolate Salted Almond Ice Cream

The end of the school year has always signified the beginning of summer to me. When I was younger, the school bell ringing for the final time was the first glorious moment of summer. Even as I've grown older, I still wait to hear the toll of an imaginary school bell, letting me know it's time to put down work and go outside. Sometimes I think we all need these little reminders, imaginary or not.

Though the end of the school year is still a couple of weeks away, I find myself daydreaming of summer fun. I wish I could be ten again—young and carefree, with an endless summer stretching out before me.

Summer has always meant a bright sun, green grass, fresh fruit, grilled meat, and ice cream, usually in just that order. Though I do love to eat ice cream in winter, it just tastes better under a hot summer sun. When I was living in Madison, Wisconsin, there was an ice cream shop I passed every day on my walk to and from work. The ice cream was homemade and dirt cheap, luring me in a couple times a week. The only thing more formidable than that dangerously delicious combination was a buy-one-get-one-free coupon (and no one to share it with).

One evening after work, I made the only logical decision and used my coupon, buying two ice cream cones for myself—one for each hand—and made the trek back home. It was a very warm day and, with the sun beating down on my head, the ice cream began melting faster than I anticipated it would.

The ice cream began dripping down the sides of the cones. It would have been a challenge to keep up with one cone; with two, it was impossible. The ice cream melted right off of the cones and onto my hands. As I'd lift the cones to my mouth in a futile attempt to keep up, the ice cream that had pooled in my hands started running down my arms and dripping off my elbows. A trail of melted ice cream began following me on the sidewalk (and I began to regret my irresponsible decision to order two cones at once).

I was a sticky mess. My arms were covered in syrupy, sweet cream and my face must have looked a fright. In these dark ice cream moments, I passed a young child on a bike. After seeing the state I was in (the greed and regret over my two cones evidenced clearly on my arms and in my hands), he shook his head at me, showing obvious disapproval. When I finally made it home, I needed a shower to wipe away the ice cream shame.

The moral of this story is a simple one: if you're going to use a buy-one-get-one-free coupon on yourself, get that ice cream served in a bowl.

Chocolate Salted Almond Ice Cream is delightfully rich in chocolate with chopped roasted, salted almonds scattered throughout. This ice cream is made only with whole milk (not cream), but you'd never guess it for how rich, creamy, and naughty(!) it tastes. The almonds balance out the intensity of the chocolate, keeping the palate from becoming overwhelmed. I had a hard time staying away from this ice cream, stealing spoonfuls during dessert, midnight snacks, and before breakfast.

When you dream about an ice cream as lovely as this, it's only natural to want it first thing in the morning (or is that just me?).

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Swedish Visiting Cake

If the variety of self-improvement books on the topic are any indication, there are thousands of ways to live your life. There are different strategies out there to help you fulfill the life just right for you. Some people live their lives in pursuit of money, others in the pursuit of helping others. Some choose to live their lives in devotion to a god, others in devotion to success. With so many options and opinions on the subject, I've always wondered where on the spectrum I would fall. Would I ultimately choose the way of the American dream, of success and money? Would I subscribe to a humble lifestyle, full of family and friends? Would I do something big, or would I settle for a familiar lifestyle?

Out of college, with my life laid out before me, I find it hard to even guess where I will find myself in the future. Even so, I can't help but wonder which lifestyle was meant for me. Of all the self-improvement books I could choose off the library shelf, which one would resonate with me?

While this thought has been swimming around my mind the last few years, in various levels of consciousness, I never imagined a simple phrase overheard at a nearby restaurant table would be the answer to my question. He said, waving his fork in the air as if to punctuate the point, he wanted to live an anecdotal life.

I realized, in that moment, that it was exactly what I wanted too. An anecdotal life.

I don't care about having a highly successful career. I'm not hell-bent on amassing a great fortune. While I'd love to help others with my life, I'm not sure I'm ready to devote my future to that just yet. However, I do like to hear a good story and I can't imagine a better life than one filled with true, tall tales to tell.

Upon reflection, I've realized that I have been happiest when I have been living the anecdotal life. When I'm filled with adventure and curiosity, where everything is possible and anything can (and does) happen, where each day may be a little more uncertain than the last. While I realize I can't always be traveling the world or making big decisions, finding myself in new situations or exploring unknown facets of my personality, I want to keep my mind open to the possibilities. I don't want to shut them out if they come calling, whatever form they may arrive in.

These last couple years have been filled with quiet stories for me, with months of my life making up the space between paragraphs. I miss finding myself face to face with a mountain goat in the rocky mountains. I miss the adventures and conversations with friends that now live far away. I miss being the girl who sits outside with her camera just to capture the sunset. It's easy for life to feel like a lull in conversation, for the winter blues to wash away the heat and life of summer. It's harder to put yourself into a place where new, unexpected stories can be born.

After all, if I don't keep composing new stories to tell, what else will we talk about next time we sit down over a cup of coffee and a piece of cake?

This Swedish Visiting Cake is chewy and sweet, with complex flavors. Without any leavening agents, the cake sets rather than bakes up, resulting in a cake with a texture similar to a coffee cake rather than a typical birthday cake. Originally a recipe from Dorie Greenspan, I played with a few of the ingredients, resulting in a cake I can't help but love. Browned butter, orange zest, and almonds combine to make a trio of flavor that only grows more depth as time passes.

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Cranberry White Chocolate Tarts

It was a weekday and I awoke just like every other morning, groggy and wiping the sleep from my eyes. I followed my typical routine—getting dressed and eating breakfast—before walking out the door. But my morning's familiarity ended here. The first snow had fallen to the ground while I slept and, for once, the snowflakes gathered, leaving the homes and streets white and sparkling.

Yawning, I drove away, making the first tracks in the pristine snow.

Working a baker's hours means I get to greet the morning long before it first hits light. As I walked the rest of the way to work under the falling snow, my feet left the first imprints on the day. The world was silent, still in bed, with the covers pulled up to its chin and dreams still filling its head. It felt surreal, surrounded by all this beauty, with no one to share in it but me.

I opened the shop and assembled the ingredients for the morning's pastries, the drifting snowflakes just visible through the storefront window. The music from the radio and the hum of the refrigerator harmonized, while the rotating blades of the stand mixer clashed, creating a familiar dissonance that has started to define my mornings. Once I get the first pastries in the oven, the smell of baking scones begins to fill the air. The scent slips out under the door and slowly drifts down the city streets.

The first customers of the day often tell me that the scents from the bakery lure them in, making the cold streets just a little bit warmer as they begin their day.

Though I dread waking so early in the morning (and oh do I dread it), once I find myself in the comfort and warmth of the bakery the world seems to make just a little more sense. My hair may be disheveled and my apron covered with flour, with dried dough hidden on my forearms and cemented to my fingernails, but this is the reason it's worth it to wake up so early in the morning. This feeling.

And though I can't explain it, it just feels right.

These Cranberry White Chocolate Tarts are fresh and colorful, with no shortage of flavor. Almond shortbread tart crusts are filled with a thin layer of white chocolate and topped with another layer of cranberries, combining three flavors I've grown to love together over the last month. I topped the tart with the simple homemade cranberry sauce I shared with you recently and it was a perfect match. If you are looking for last minute dessert ideas for the upcoming holidays, this is an easy and delicious choice. These are even perfect to make after the holiday, if you find yourself with some leftover cranberry sauce.

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