Best Tuesday Night Ever

Cupcake Decorating Class, Tuesday, 6pm, Isabelle's Curly Cakes. 

Cupcakes to decorate....

 And cupcakes to take home. 

My favorite? Red velvet. I'm a sucker for cream cheese frosting.

Super Bowl Sunday

10:30am. I'm bouncing at the start line of the Super Sunday 5 Mile race. It's twenty-five degrees and I'm trying to stay warm. The race director says a few words, finishes with "It's cold as shit," and the start gun goes off. 

The first mile makes me question why I'm here. The cold air hurts and my hamstrings are tight. Do I want this? And then I hit the first mile marker and I can't believe my split... 6:54. Can that be right?

The next split is good too and, somewhere between miles 2 and 3, I start to want this race. I want it bad. I'm not thinking and I'm barely aware of the course... rounding the corner by the Harvard Graduate School of Design, sprinting through Inman Square, breathing hard between Cambridgeside and Kendall.

I cross the finish line 49 seconds under my goal time.

You Get What You Need

It's 5:30, Sunday morning. I shouldn't be awake. I'm wide awake. I try, but can't go back to sleep. You can't always get what you want.

At 6:13, I'm out of bed, pulling on running tights and sneakers. Why not run? I pause at my front door and press play on my shuffle. The first song? Countdown by Beyonce. I'm truly in love with this song. And I love that it came up first. Sometimes you get what you need.

Boston is quiet. I run through Chinatown, past delivery trucks and crates of chickens (feathers still on). There are certain things that you can only see in the very early morning.

In the Financial District, the bars are closed, the streets are mostly empty and the sidewalks are all mine. The arch of Rowes Wharf frames a perfect sunrise... a blue harbor and a blue sky, layered with white clouds and apricot-hued light. Sometimes you get what you need.

Overheard in Back Bay

At the Burberry store:
"Have an amazing day, ladies!"
"I fully plan on it."

At L'Aroma:
"Excuse me, are you really taking that table? I was walking over here."
"Yes, I was just talking to this man and he said I could have it."
"Are you seriously taking this table?!?"
"Are you coming over here and seriously challenging me?!?"
"Yes. I'm challenging you."

I'm That Girl

I wear 4-inch heels when there's snow on the ground and the sidewalks are slippery. 

(Image from www.endless.com)

I bring biscotti to happy hour at Tico. And lemon squares to an afternoon at the Aquarium. My friends really aren't surprised anymore when I arrive with dessert.

I stop and stare at the copper panels and arched windows of the Puffers Building on Cambridge Street. Don't mind me. I'm just in love with architecture.

From Almond Biscotti to Lemon Squares

I'm on a mission to make the perfect almond biscotti. I keep tweaking recipes -- a little less baking soda, a little more almond extract -- but I'm still not there yet.

One recipe called for amaretto liqueur. Definitely not something I keep on hand. So, in the middle of day, I went to the liquor store. The guy behind the counter said that Disaronno was my best bet and, since I only needed 2 tablespoons, found a nip for me. And then he looked a little wistful... "You said you were baking a cake?" "Cookies." "Ohhh... cookies..." He doesn't deal with too many bakers. And he'd really like a cookie. Maybe I could barter for champagne?

But, when I couldn't find ground anise at the grocery store, I put biscotti on pause. I sat down with Chewy Gooey Crispy Crunchy Melt-in-Your-Mouth Cookies (I read cookbooks the way some women read romance novels...) and I picked out a recipe, purely based on what ingredients I have in my kitchen.

Lemon squares. Bingo.

There's a sweet and tangy lemon filling on top of a buttery, crunchy crust. I can't really elaborate further. They're just... stupid good. Good enough to make me forget all about biscotti.

[Alice Medrich's Very Tangy Lemon Bars 2.0 recipe from Chewy Gooey Crispy Crunch Melt-in-Your-Mouth Cookies]

A Damn Good Breakfast: Blueberry Pancakes

Stack 'em up, knock 'em down.