I read a series of books by an author called Debora Geary. It's a series that nominally deals with communities of witches, and are among the lightest and most enjoyable reading I have on my virtual shelf.
What draws me to these books is not setting fires with a click of fingers or any excuse to continue my Harry Potter book obsession (because I clearly don't need a reason). For a series of books that profess to be light reading, Debora Geary offers an unusually grown-up and kind look at relationships and responsibilities. More than anything, I love the camaraderie, the compassion and the community. The characters on her pages are the people I want to be when I grow up.
All of this heartwarming writing is backed up by a large offerings of food. Seafood linguine, ice-cream by the ton, and lots & lots of cookies. But of all the food gorged on her pages, the one that always calls to me the most is Nutella Cookies.
I've written before about the affinity I have for baking biscuits (as they're called in Australia and England), something about minimal ingredients that all have room to speak their flavours and support each other. The fact that they respond best to gentle treatment and don't ask too much of any cook. They seem to me to be the quiet kids I always have a soft spot for, who ask for little and offer so much in return.
A short while ago, I was cruising on the pages of Sneaky Pudding's blog – which is one of the things I like to do on a regular basis, and I noticed with absolute glee that she has a recipe for Nutella Cookies. O.h. m.y. g.o.d…….
While trying to hold back my suspicion of a baker who doesn't include Nutella as a part of her daily diet I tried making them and immediately fell in love. I've played around with the recipe a bit, the original is a little too sweet for me (although if you have a sweeter tooth, ignore my recipe and quickly shoot over to her) so here I exchanged the choc chips for salted peanuts. Other than that there are only very small differences.
I've spent the last few days in coddled comfort. Wrapped in much needed space from the hectic world I don't readily inhabit. It's been a time of homemade blankets and cosy tea with friends. Mornings filled with their laughter, and afternoons with the slow, steady heartbeat of home. I'm truly lucky to be gifted these times, and I try not to ignore the blessing.
My head has been much slower to sink into this proffered comfort. I've struggled to find an ease with my writing. It's the first time in a while I've felt the words constrict, and my old fear that I won't be able to write again is peering over my shoulder – like a carrion crow waiting for the death knell of inspiration.
I often find my feet readily move forwards while my head trails far behind, struggling to keep up with changes that constantly swirl. But, after years of practise, my mind is a little quicker to catch up each time, and I'm looking forward to it to being gently stroked into purring ease once more.
I try to remain mindful of the consideration I need to continue to practise, especially this week. When my perfectionist rears up and insists on all the things I should be busy doing in order to have value, I try to gently and firmly remind myself that it was only a few days ago my emotional tank was completely empty, and that I cannot be wholly useful in the world until I've taken some time to refill.
It can be hard to steer my mind into right thinking, but I have developed some tools along the way, and continue to improve, thanks to finding the many breadcrumbs of wisdom from all the people who have trudged this path before me.
Biscuits are a food (a food group all on their own, surely?) I find entirely soothing to make, and the making reflects the way I would like to live my life. They're generally uncomplicated ingredients found in my store-cupboard at any time. The measuring and mixing are both gentle and simple. I don't need to think about them too much, I just need to follow where the recipe and my hands are, with an open and trusting mind, and the end result is usually fantastic.