This ends up a streusel topping of sorts. Also, some humility.įor this cake, you make a dryish dough that seems all wrong, then separate out some of it to be mixed with sliced almonds and more spices. Note to self: on next trip to the US, buy brown sugar. Still, I thought, rather cockily, a simple, spiced buttermilk cake? I can do that. Our light, fluffy cakes tend to result in somewhat leaden, dry specimens. The flour is different, the leaveners aren't exactly the same, and brown sugar, the squidgy, fudgy American kind, doesn't even exist here. I know from other Americans in Berlin that it's not an easy thing to simply make American baking recipes with German ingredients. Georgian cheese bread! Calamari stew! A crazy-hideous Indian chicken in mango sauce! And a buttermilk coffeecake that just screamed to be made and brought to a Kaffeeklatsch I went to on Saturday afternoon. Oooh, I clicked away, bookmarking a new collection of things to try. The universe seemed to be giving me a little gift when the editors at the Los Angeles Times threw open the doors onto a small sliver of their recipe vaults. But newspaper recipes are shaping up to be my challenge of the week. Oh, and I've been doing some amazing things with rice lately. Salads, they are coming out of my ears! Cheese sandwiches, liverwurst toasts, I don't have any problems with either of those. Spaghetti with tomato sauce I've got down. ![]() Is it the recipes I'm choosing? The German version of all the ingredients? The anticipation of the delivery of all my earthly possessions to my mother's apartment early Thursday morning and the fact that I still don't have a place of my own? I don't know, but it's bugging me. Possibly even temporarily missing in action. ![]() I don't know how it happened, or how to get it back.
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