These scones go fast. I don’t just mean the making of them either. I mean the impressive consumption of them that occurred at about light speed. They were inhaled. By me. By my roommates. Not by anyone else though – there was no sharing of these glorious breakfast bites. Someone would have had to stage a pretty impressive sneak attack to get their hands on some of those scones. It’s certainly not surprising that we ate them all, or that no interloper got a hold of them. Why? Because they have bacon in them, obviously. And I would probably defend bacon foodstuffs with my very life or least a skillet. But you know what else they have? Cheese – and not just any cheese mind you. Gruyere. It’s Swiss and awesome. It keeps these scones from being anything but neutral. We should know. This isn’t our first Swiss cheese filled bacony rodeo.
Apologies. I have been on a serious pumpkin kick. And even though there may or may not be a pumpkin shortage on, it did not stop me from grabbing up cans of pumpkin at the store greedily and then putting it in these pancakes. You are probably sitting at your computer yawning as I suggest you make yet another pumpkin item. Oh great, now I’m yawning. It’s contagious you know. These pancakes, though, are anything but a yawn. I mean they are pretty orange. They are totally worth the urge to hoard canned pumpkin and wake up early in the bright sunshine to make them for the people who dig you and your pancakes (also known as your pumpkin hungry significant other or your family). Trust me, they’ll thank you.
Apparently, I have a desire to deprive you, dear reader, of delicious chocolate cake. This is a bad habit I am attempting to rectify post haste. You see, I made this cake, um, ages ago. By which I mean, of course, summer. I was home, basking in the glory of my parents’ fully stocked kitchen and abundant Texas sunshine, and I made this cake. Then I ate it. Well, my dad helped. It was good and chocolatey and – well, suffice it say that it went pretty fast. Despite its tastiness, I kept this recipe from you, swathed in mystery for months. Well, NO MORE! I reveal to you at last:
This banana bread was sort of a process. Not that the actual making of it was long and drawn out. It was more the hoarding of super ripe, extra mushy bananas that became somewhat harrowing. First we only had four – but needed five – so we cleverly outwitted nature and jammed them in our freezer. Unfortunately, our freezer has the surprising and unpleasant habit of ejecting its contents or not closing all the way or opening every time you close the fridge. It does this last bit so sneakily that I got a nice whack to my occipital lobes the other day when I was putting away groceries. It was, to say the least, unpleasant. At last we procured the fifth banana, and promptly stuck that in the freezer, too, because it was the middle of the week, and we were far too busy for tasty banana bread. But the weekend arrived, the freezer was relieved of its frozen tropical contents, and a warm, cinnamony bread was whipped up in no time.