There was a time when you wondered, where does everybody go when they say they have to go? You were a woman who wore masks, took up duplicity like sacrament, and sometimes you’d walk into a room and forget which mask was required for entry. Were you the one who was required to work the room or keep it entertained? Pull back the curtains, usher in the big bands and shine all the lights — the performance is about to begin! Someone whispered, hurry up, it’s time. Your heart was a metronome. You were a soloist caught up in a trembling note, a minor keying. And each day became a photocopy of all that came before it, and you started to trip over all the pretty fictions you’d created for yourself.
You read Whitman and got sick on avocados. It is not upon you alone the dark patches fall/The dark threw patches down upon me also/The best I had done seem’d to me blank and suspicious/My great thoughts, as I supposed them, were they not in reality meagre? would not people laugh at me? And this puts you to thinking about the refrain from Carrie, They’re all going to laugh at you! Measure for measure, all you could think of was your masks and how they needed protecting. Suddenly the smell of eucalyptus made your whole body quake. Avoid it at all costs. Burn the leaves if you have to. But the masks! The masks. They’re cindering, they’re peeling off.
Over a tower of mussels and slippery fish — who ordered this? — a man in a suit told you that you’re far more interesting two bottles in. Rewind the tape. Press play. And this was your life for a decade.
One February, nearly six years ago, you torched the lot of it because life is better lived with eyes wide open. And that is when you picked up the whisk, powered the machines and baked with vigor. This felt good — creating something from nothing, feeling the weight of dough in your two hands. After a decade of breathing underwater, you could finally see, and all you craved was a world of color. Of bright blues, blistering yellows, and earthy browns. Perhaps this is how you found your lifelong love — where had you been hiding??! — and you know this will be the next phase of your journey.
INGREDIENTS: Recipe courtesy of Green Kitchen Stories, with modifications
3 cups almond flour
1 cup coconut flour
3 tbsp poppy seeds
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 cup pistachio oil
1/4 grapeseed oil
2 small organic lemons
3 large eggs
1/2 cup honey or maple syrup
2 cups blueberries (save half for topping)
Preheat oven to 350°F. Combine the almond/coconut flours, poppy seeds, salt, baking powder and baking soda in a large bowl and set aside. Heat oil and honey in a sauce pan on very low heat until combined. Grate the zest from the 2 lemons and add it to the honey/oil batter. Cut the lemons in half and squeeze the juice from three of the halves into the mixture. With a spatula, mix the lemon/honey/oil batter with the dry ingredients. Beat the eggs and then fold them into the batter together with 1 cup of the blueberries. Fold gently with a wooden spoon until combined. Grease a 8-inch spring form cake tin (or cake pan), and add the batter to it. I use coconut spray because it’s healthy, flavorful and delicious.
Bake for 35-45 minutes (check after 30 minutes), or until golden on the outside and baked all way through. Remove from oven and let cool for at least 30 minutes before removing the sides. Serve this delicious cake with fresh blueberries and hot tea.