Smitten

I should write about New York City, I really should: it is my duty as a recently returned traveler. However, this is currently a no-can-do situation, partner. Having informed you of that fact, I promise you that a) I want to write about the wonders of a week in New York, and that b) I will. But this is all too pressing.

I love to bake. I love folding berries into batter, the aroma of brownies being created in the fires of kitchen-hell, sprinkling cinnamon-sugar over scones and whisking them away into the oven, where the sugary layer will transcend to an even more delightful state. I even love the heat of a summer kitchen, though that one took some time, and the challenge of it all. In my baking career - if one can call it that - many things have emerged from my oven. I will be direct and frank: a lot of them were fantastically scrumptious and "successful" - though who can really measure success? Anyway, today another experiment joined the "successes". The name? Boy Bait; Blueberry Boy Bait. 

I'm kind of clever... Moving along to you, let me guess, you're thinking, "Boy Bait? Scout thinks she can buy affection with baked goods?" Here is what I am saying: "..." And here is what I am now going to say: "No, however, here are the points I would like to make: a) a certain level of affection CAN be purchased, so ha; b) I am not trying to do that, heaven forbid; c) I didn't name the recipe; d) whether you are a boy or not, you would be lured in by this treat." I've said it all. 

And somehow explained nothing. Well, here you go: I wanted to make something "for" General Conference today, and after sorting through all the food inspiration I got in Gotham, I found that I was particularly inspired by all the fabulous pastries I sampled over the course of the week. This of course included those splendid blueberry muffins that I enjoyed on many occasions. So what did I do? I did a speedy search through the files of the ever-trusty food blog Smitten Kitchen (which is fittingly the creation of a New Yorker) and found this recipe for a blueberry-muffin cake; at least, that's basically what it is.

Although my cake turned out very well, I have no skill with the camera, so no, I did not take the picture. The photo is in fact from the Smitten Kitchen, which means the cake shown is Deb Perelman's, not mine. Mine was a tad more blueberry-infused anyhow. Sorry, you've been deceived. Also, because I can, here's an adorable picture (that I did not take because I'm a cat...and in the picture) of my cousin Emma Lahti and me:

She does know how to strike a pose, that little ball of white fluff.

Truly, madly, and deeply,

Scout