Last weekend was one for the books, the first with perfectly warm and sunny spring weather. Just gorgeous. In the morning we decided to clean up our little garden a bit and get it ready for the upcoming outdoor season. You know, raking leafs, trying to rein in the moss epidemic that has spread during the wet winter and some overall organisation.
After that I tackled the giant task that was the 20 pound bag of apples my Mom somehow managed to sneak into the trunk of the car last time I was back home in Germany. Which was in December. Now, these weren't your picture-perfect Fuji apples, mind you, but wrinkly, bruised and browned ones my mother had foraged. And having them overwinter in our little shed in the garden didn't help their appearance either. So for almost two hours I cleaned, peeled and cut, with little breaks of reading and practicing the ukulele. Very domestic. What was left of the apples got turned into apple compote and apple-chestnut cream bread, recipe adapted slightly from Sara. It doesn't look like much, but fresh from the oven with some salted butter on top, it made for a great breakfast.
Turned out I was on a roll that day; after making a big batch of granola I decided to bake bread from scratch. You know with letting the dough rise overnight and all that scary stuff. Well, turns out it's not that hard actually, just some planning ahead and kneading and waiting, is all. I had a real moment of pride when I pulled that bread from the oven. Naturally, we demolished it in an embarrassingly short amount of time. I blame it on the salted butter, it makes everything taste like heaven.