I thought it was going to be a bad day, or at least a long dragging one. I took the day off, planned it weeks before I knew Greg’s car was going to crap out on us. The plan had been to spend the day shopping for something to wear to Erik’s wedding, followed by an obligatory trip to the neighboring Central Market. Yes, early, but I already have the outfit staked out from the Anthropologie catalog (It’s much too expensive, but this is a special occasion, and how often do I get to wear a snazzy dress?). I just need to try it on, because my shape is nothing like the model in the catalog. Instead, I’ve spent the day housebound.
Well, not totally. About a fourth of the way into my morning pages I decided to go for a bike ride around the lake. It was really nice, everything is still green and the lake is still up from the flooding. I was the only person out there which was a bit creepy at the part where the trail veers into the woods out of the view of civilization. No serial killers waited there for me though, just a bunch of beautiful black and white dragonflies (I have never seen black and white ones before – they looked like they were getting ready for the prom). When I returned home I finished the pages and then worked on a short story I have been meaning to finish. I emailed it off to Literary Mama, although not before debating whether or not to hit the send button. This will be my first short story submission to anywhere. My luck is good now though – this summer I had a book review accepted at Critical Public Health, my essay is in final stages for publication in Mama, PhD, and I just had an article accepted at Chest: The Cardiopulmonary and Critical Care Journal.
My vita is nothing if not diverse.
After that I ate left over dal curry with naan and a couple of mini 100,000 dollar bars and rented The Number 23 on pay-per-view. I never get to watch creepy grown up movies, so this was a treat. I enjoyed it, despite its predictability (Spoiler: I wished the wife had written it, it would have been creepier that way, although why she would want him to find it would be tough to explain). I’d like to write something like that. As I think of what I would like to write, I realize more and more that I like the literary thriller.
With the rest of my time alone I plan on making biscotti and a chai latte. Here’s the recipe for the biscotti:
First, line a cookie sheet with foil and spritz it with some olive oil Pam. Sift together 1.5 cups of flour, a teaspoon of baking powder, and a half a teaspoon of salt in a medium bowl. You can use whole wheat flour if you want, it just depends on what consistency you like.
In a large bowl, beat two eggs, a cup of sugar, and a teaspoon of vanilla until very pale and thick – about three minutes. Stir in the dry ingredients about a third at a time. The dough will get really stiff.
Divide it in half. Get your hands wet and shape each half into a smooth, 12 inch long log on the cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes, or until the loaves spring back when lightly touched in the center.
Take them out of the oven. Carefully transfer them to a cutting board. Use a serrated knife and cut the logs into ½ inch slices. Put the slices back on the cookie sheet, about a ½ inch apart. Bake for 10 more minutes, or until they are crisp.
This is the basic recipe; there are all sorts of ways you can snaz it up. Like use almond extract instead of vanilla. Or toss in some ground anise. Or some crushed hazelnuts. Or you could add cocoa. You could also try dipping the final product in melted dark chocolate, let it dry on a piece of wax paper.