Marbled Butternut Squash Bread

As far back as I can remember, I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to put pen to paper and release a story from somewhere deep within me. To give the mumbled, uncertain emotions swirling in my head a channel with which to escape. I wanted to release words from my fingertips with as much energy as the release of balloons into a deep blue sky.

Perhaps it may come as a surprise to you, but I've always been a little reserved. My tongue holds my thoughts prisoner, fighting against the rattling brain in my head that is eager to share them with the world. It's a personal, quiet battle I struggle with in slowly conquering that stubborn tongue of mine. In a way, writing has become an outlet to free the thoughts in my head. To give a voice to the words I cannot seem to speak aloud.

Even so, some days I have a love-hate relationship with writing. Writing is hard. More often than not, I end up staring at a blank computer screen when I sit down to write, the blinking of the cursor reminding me how much time is passing, my mind seeming to wipe itself clean. Though I love the process of writing once I begin, the process can be difficult to start. I have been known to avoid writing like it is a chore, pandering myself by visiting webpages or taking care of household business instead, trying to ignore the call of the white blank screen.

Yet, I cannot ignore the call forever. I eventually find myself in front of that same blank screen, discovering the determination to cover it with black ink. The need to write outweighs whatever feelings I may have about it. Perhaps, in many ways, that is the true mark of writer.

Even though I love sharing my thoughts and stories with you, I have always written for myself. I struggle to write for anyone else. When I settle down in front of the computer screen, I must forget that thousands of you may stumble across my words and read them—the thought is enough to stop even the bravest of writers mid-sentence. I can't write while I feel like someone is watching me; I'm afraid that person will read my words and find a way to judge me for them.

Even so, I wonder if I can truly be called a writer. The term is enigmatic, ascribing a certain measure of success and failure. If I am to be called a writer, I like to imagine that any eight year old girl with a head full of ideas and dull pencil in hand can be called by the same name too.

Writer or not, the need to write never changes. I plan on slicing myself another piece of this bread for inspiration when I find myself facing the next blank screen.

Marbled Butternut Squash Bread has a subtle sweetness with striking tones of color. Butternut squash meets the classic fall spices—cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves—creating a moist and pleasantly dense loaf of bread. A third of the batter is mixed with cocoa before swirling into the rest, creating not only a marbled appearance, but a marbled flavor. The bread works well served with a simple butter spread but, if you are feeling a little adventurous, a bit of chocolate spread certainly wouldn't be amiss.

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Pumpkin Rolls

When rainy autumn weather begins taking its toll and darkness descends earlier than I anticipate, I like to wrap myself in blankets, wear ridiculously fuzzy socks, and marvel at how long my evenings suddenly feel. Time passes slowly after the sun sets and my eyes grow tired when the clock strikes ten. Somehow, despite my sleepiness and couch potato tendencies, I can't get myself to crawl into bed until after midnight.

Old habits die hard, it seems.

On the few occasions when I flip on the television or indulge in a few moments on Pinterest, I can't help but notice that holiday advertisements and Thanksgiving pies are already trying to sneak up on us. Even though I can avert my eyes in mild distaste at their early arrival, these thoughts of family togetherness and comfort food have managed to weasel their way into my subconscious thoughts.

It was only after I made these pumpkin rolls for the second time in a week (the first batch disappeared sooner than I would have liked) that I realized how lovely they would be graced upon a Thanksgiving table surrounded by family and friends. I wanted to shake my finger at myself for falling prey to commercialism so early in the season, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Perhaps I just miss the feeling of home.

These pumpkin rolls, however, are remarkable in their own right. They are neither sweet nor savory, but fall squarely in between, toeing the line with the skill of a tightrope walker. While I often make a recipe more than once to play around with ingredients or give it a few minor adjustments (as recipe developers will do), this time I followed the recipe exactly the second time I made these rolls. There was nothing I wanted to change about them, no minor detail that needed to be altered. It was a rare and beautiful moment, as if I had stumbled upon a hidden treasure in my kitchen.

I am so excited to share this recipe with you.

Pumpkin Rolls are perfect to share with friends and family over holiday dinners or enjoyed on a simple Sunday evening at home with loved ones. The rolls are lightly spiced and lightly sweetened, which allows them to fall to the savory or sweet side depending on your mood. I have enjoyed these rolls spread with maple cream cheese, drizzled with melted chocolate, prepared with a simple butter spread, and soaked in mashed potatoes and gravy. The pumpkin flavor is present, but mild, which makes them a good choice for pumpkin lovers and skeptical fathers alike.

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Pumpkin Waffles

Waffles and pancakes have the power to heal. There is something about the thick batter and maple syrup that breathes life into bent shoulders and cures the woes of the soul. This past week has not been the best of weeks for me. There have been books, a career-defining exam, and a homemade stack of flashcards ever growing in height. There has been a car accident, a sore neck, and bent metal (but thankfully no real injuries). There have been insurance companies, a battered ego, and frustration trying to find new forms of transportation.

When the world hands me trouble and strife, I make waffles.

I wish I could say I always handle myself with grace under pressure and kindness under stress, but it isn't always the case. I often become selfish and inconsiderate during these moments, putting my own problems and worried emotions above others. In a way, it's a form of self-preservation; a coping mechanism to hold myself together enough to make it through a taxing afternoon. Even so, it doesn't excuse my behavior.

I want to apologize to my boyfriend for yelling at him when he was only trying to help me study for my exam (I was just frustrated with myself, not you). I'm sorry I haven't been very pleasant this past week.

Last Sunday I set aside time to make waffles—a brunch for two was on the menu. I needed a little comfort food to cure the aches of my week, fall spices to bring warmth back into my disposition, and pumpkin to remind me of the changing leaves outside my window. Even though waffles will never truly solve our problems, they can help us find a new perspective with which to approach them.

Waffles and pancakes have the power to heal. They just need to be given the chance.

Pumpkin Waffles have a bright flavor and a seasonal draw. The waffle batter is thick, with plenty of cinnamon and spice to keep the flavors warm. When the waffles cook up, the inside sets almost like a pumpkin pie, while the outside stays crisp. The waffles may need to cook a little longer to achieve this texture, but a few extra minutes on the clock are worth the final product. These waffles are a lovely addition to an autumn brunch.

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