Cranberry Orange Cake and Other Things I Feel Blasé About
There's a bookstore in the Loop called Open Books, and if you live and Chicago and haven't been there, I'm offended by you. Open Books is part used bookstore, part social venture, and part place to abandon the laundry basket you used to haul 25 pounds of books down to donate, and it is heavenly. Decorated with bright colors and kid-friendly wall-hangings, it doesn't look like a place where you'd be able to find serious books, but judge this bookstore not by its cover, because they have an incredibly large and varying selection and the knowledgeable staff to guide you through it.
On the Day We Left the Laundry Basket There*, I had finished my usual round around the shelves when I ventured up to the new books section (a rare move, because usually by this point, I'm trying to talk myself OUT of buying more books). I found a simple looking book called Hope in the Dark and bought it on a whim. It seems like a time where everyone should take any sort of hope they can get, right? When I finally got around to reading the book, though, I wasn't sure how I felt about it. And now, after finishing it, I'm still not sure how I feel. Luckily, the French have a word for that: blasé. Blasé all day.
So I turned to baking. As I think everyone has picked up on so far, I'm on a baking binge. And when Colin's mom left behind a mini-shopping bag full of cranberries and we (kind of) accidentally took it home, I had to do something. I dug up a recipe for a cranberry orange cake, made a few changes, and forced everyone I live and work with to taste test it (people love me). Though I was unimpressed (blasé again), everyone else loved it. So I decided to shut up about feeling blasé and move on with my life. The end.
*It is still there. Adieu, laundry basket.