Homemade Potpourri for the Holidays

Homemade Potpourri

The warming spices of winter in an easy potpourri recipe for the holidays.


Aron seemed perfectly calm. He sat in the living room, looking at cartoons in old numbers of the Review of Reviews. From the kitchen the odor of the bursting juices of roasting turkey began to fill the house.
East of Eden, John Steinbeck

Inspiration

We humans are makers, creators, hands busy creatures, dreamers. We know what motivates us, where we find our joy. All that talk about results oriented, achieving goals can cloud the joy in doing. I find it spilling over from my previous life in management. I track myself with lists, the daily, the goals. The, the, the. Attending the International Food Bloggers Conference really clarified my motivation to blog. I find joy in the making. When lost in the process, the doing is my bliss. I’d bet you’re a creative too, because we all are. This year’s IFBC experience was like having my vision checked and then realizing that my new glasses helped so much. I couldn’t believe I was making do with my old pair. Why did I wait so long to see clearly?

Essentials

Homemade Potpourri for the Holidays is a project that rewards the doing. The best way to start making potpourri is to take a brisk autumn walk. Gather fallen pine cones, seed pods or dried berries. All these autumn things are currently littering every path and sidewalk. The experience of gathering and choosing each item begins the creative process. I like an array of colors, shapes and textures but choosing just one item from outside and bringing inside is all you need. Once in the kitchen the aroma of warming spices, apple and tangerine are a pure jolt of winter bliss. I made a big batch so I would have extra for gifting. Even a small project of one bowl of Homemade Potpourri for the Holidays has its reward. This isn’t an exacting recipe for potpourri, it’s more of a nudge of inspiration to set you on a path of autumn discovery. Make your own joy. READ MORE . . .

Little Biscoff Cheesecakes

Biscoff Cheesecake

Performance Art

“You know, Lee I think of my life as a kind of music, not always good music but still having form and melody.”

East of Eden, John Steinbeck

Inspiration

Cooking and baking is live performance art. If you never thought you were an artist, I’m taking this opportunity to say that yes you are! We create and share and then it all disappears. Each individual act of cooking and baking is never repeated. Like a long running Broadway show, the more practice, the more consistent the performance. There are so many variables—timing, ingredients, attention to detail, experience, technique, equipment. Some performances are better than others, its real theatre. There are days when my performance is dismal. Even when I’m totally submerged in the process, it can fail. It’s a smooth performance in my kitchen theatre when a new recipe comes together easily. Little Biscoff Cheesecakes are from one such performance. READ MORE . . .

Spiced Cranberry Buttermilk Bundt Cake

Spiced Cranberry Bundt

A Cake for Autumn

“But in California it does ordinarily rain at all between the end of May and the first of November.”

East of Eden, John Steinbeck

Inspiration

It’s raining today and I couldn’t be happier. By the time I publish this post it will probably be sunny again. But such a nice big rain the first week in November is a very good thing. California is parched and ready for good news. READ MORE . . .

Pumpkin Spice Cupcakes with Orange Caramel Cream Cheese Frosting

Pumpkin Spice Cupcakes with Orange Caramel Cream Cheese Frosting

Letting Go

“Do you have many books? Not many here–thirty or forty. But your are welcome to any of them you haven’t read.”

East of Eden, John Steinbeck

Inspiration

Grasping with all our might we hold on tightly. Until we don’t. We let go. I came stuttering into fall. Didn’t want to let our Indian Summer go. September, early October, I rebelled against all things pumpkin and spice. Late in the afternoon I find myself in the garden searching for straggling, late season tomatoes. They aren’t very good tomatoes; mushy, without gloss, yet sweet. They are not slicing or galette making tomatoes. I tuck them into a full-bodied sauce or hearty soup that’s already simmering and feel good about using them. When I’m in the garden the late afternoon sun warms my shoulders, reaching past my sweatshirt to caress and soothe. The warmth eases the grip I have on the day. My hands loosen, relax as they clammer past the tangle of a busy day for one last tomato. That’s what I’m not ready to give up. But I will let go. READ MORE . . .