Bake #3 brings us to our first bread – a whole wheat cinnamon raisin bread. No yeast, no kneading – just quite a bit of honey and applesauce (to sweeten), cinnamon and raisins, and, of course, all the bready stuff (flour, eggs, and co.)
Bake #3 – Cinnamon Raisin Bread (recipe)
Folding the batter
Cooling…
Cinnamon Raisin Bread!
For round two of our bake night, we decided to pick some strawberries together at a local farm and make a strawberry pie. While we were preparing it, we made a spontaneous decision to use the remaining strawberries to make jam as well. Trust us, it was an excellent decision.
Bake #2 – Strawberry Pie (recipe)… and jam
Picking strawberries!
Beautiful…
Collecting strawberries for the pie
These will go on top
Making the strawberry whipped cream
Finished!
Very light and creamy
Now, on to the jam
Mixing with the sugar
Rolling boil
Strawberry jam!
So, the Huff house is beginning a new family tradition together: a weekly baking night every Friday (or, if Kristen is off, Saturday) evening with the whole family in the kitchen. It is our Friday Family Baking Night.
Kristen and I have been watching The Great British Baking Show together and wanted to try new baking recipes with our daughters as a fun evening every week. Happy is the home that smells of cookies, yes? 🙂 There is nothing better than a home full of laughter, feasting, and deep joy, bringing glory and praise to the Lord through fellowship and good food. That is our aim, and this is our first bake:
Bake #1 – Butterscotch Chocolate Chip Cookies (recipe)
Mixing the dough…
Set to cool…
Soft, mild, yet very flavorful butterscotch chocolate chip cookies!
On the mountains at the farthest border of the world,
Snow-capped and calling,
I felt my way to the thin line of the edge
And looked down into outer space
Where I could see the winds of stars fall asleep
Below my scarlet knuckles
As the northern lights, with their tin flame of foil fire,
Green and white diamond, filmed the midnight sky.
They told stories like my father,
Full of heroes and the beauties they fought for,
As every scene of laughter and of sorrow,
Played at once along the measures of their gleaming.
Then I balled a few rags of snow in my grasp
And clenched them hard enough for the cold to slide
Into my chest and crack my pounding heart alive
As I rose to my feet and steadied my shaking lungs.
I remember those tales well,
My father sitting by my bedside, holding
Oceans and sailing ships with the strength of
His love for me.
And I would follow him anywhere,
Through the forestry of childhood,
Keeping close to his heels as he
Showed me where to go,
Well into the iron winters of adulthood
As my stride slowly grew stronger, and
He taught me how to breathe
The mountain air of becoming a father.
For now, as I stand at the peak of this universe,
Filled with ice and the sweep of shooting stars,
I turn and see the faces of my own children and my beautiful wife,
Looking to me with the smiles of home,
And I know it is time to tell my own stories,
To hold their hands and lead them onward
As they keep close to my heels, and I show them
Where to go.
Your fingers felt the hem of your violet dress
When you first looked over at me,
And for a moment I swear the room rippled
Like water kissed by a skipping stone.
Then you spoke,
And all the watercolor rain
In every cloud between us
Began to fall,
Rinsing the beautiful stillness,
Bearing your words like notes on sheet music
Across the twirling wind,
The sweetness of roses,
The lovely taste of light.
Your smile curled at the corners like hymnals,
Bright with the glory of verse,
The joy of Christ resting on your gentle cheeks
And your eyes deeper than morning.
I stood helpless as you swept your hair behind your shoulder,
Arrested by a single sentence,
A hundred hummingbirds whirring in my chest.
For you were no mere person,
No woman on a busy street,
But starlight on the evening sea,
Melody in rosined strings,
Beauty in a violet dress.
And still, now,
As I rake the snow with my right hand,
Five fingers along the length of our front yard,
And the cold night laughs a flurry of new blankets,
I see our children dance around the staff that I have drawn,
Stepping out a chorus, leaving notes beneath their shoes,
And I know when I look up,
I’ll see my lovely wife,
And we’ll smile in quiet gladness
For the time that we’ve been given.
Eden.Babel 