0 Comments
Smiles at a jogger's pace
Attachment, there's no place. Curiosity always curved Sympathy seekers curbed. Lingering until latched, Genuine intention stashed. Liberally lining their pockets, Energy greater than sockets. Unplug upon satisfaction. Ignore embittered reaction. Sultry scan for a souvenir, Hardly the parasite pioneer. Although my favorite Disney princess has always been a 3-way tie between Pochahontas, Mulan, and Belle, I have always wanted to be referred to as "Belle with her nose in a book." Even if someone somewhere just said it once.I used to spend hours in the Mount Pleasant library, 4 minutes from my house, collecting travel books, cookbooks, and devotionals for rent. There was one time when I even felt the eyes from the security guard on me; not because he thought I slipped a book in my bag without checking it out, but with interest of some sort. Then again, it could have very well been in my head. ;)Fast Forward to my library adventures in Texas post-heart expenditure: November 2020.Heart Expenditure (noun): The state in which one's heart has let too many "potentials" in, only to be underwhelmed. In this datesandcakes definition specifically, it was allowing 4 guys into my heart space in the span of 7 months. If you're thinking the math doesn't add up, you'll be happy to learn that insecurity was my common denominator. All of them retreated and I was left with the wreckage of myself and my own undoing in November 2020. Instead of living out the definition of insanity, I tried a new hobby to distract me from dating and breaking down. If you've ever sat in a room with me, you'd know within seconds that I do not. sit. still. So, reading novels has always been a struggle, even in school with AP classes that required summer reading. But, here I was, looking, hoping for something new. I read the book to the left in four days and the book on the right in five. They were RIVETING. I felt alive and accomplished and was providing my own approval for a change. One common theme (besides murder muhahah! What can I say? I always loved Nancy Drew even though it took me weeks to finish one because of all my "distractions") quickly surfaced that men should not be trusted. I'm sure you're thinking, how convenient that datesandcakes reads books to support her serial dating trend and is, like most women, an innocent bystander.
These books actually helped me realize how many of the guys I've dated are and will always be, strangers. I knew more about these characters and how they face fear, mortality, morals, integrity, and greed than the four from the pandemic. For cereal, if I do ever write a book or series of books, one of them HAS to be "The Four From the Pandemic: How to Date During a Pandemic and Insure You Leave Pieces Behind." But being totally shallow here (because deep down, we all have been at one time or another), these two titles scream some of my insecurities that lead me to date these guys that were not fit for me. AT ALL. I wanted to be a pretty thing on his arm and gosh, did I want to be seen. But the more carona cases reported, with maps stretched as far as the screen can capture, the more people I realize are out there that could be that match. Maybe my pretty thing is in Morocco and I've been too distracted with the wrong corners of the compass. I'm alone and could not be happier. .... I don't know if that's gasp worthy or cliche but.... today, at this moment while clacking this blog out, pressed against a heating pad when I should very well be asleep, I'm at peace with saying that. :)) The cakes will still be baked, the vlogs will still be recorded, and God knows the attention will still be yearned for, but I'm hopefully going to approach it better. Here's for hoping and for new hobbies! Single Ole Bird Left With PiecesPersonally, Reese's pieces are my least favorite of the Reese's family (the candy-coated sheep if you will). They have no chocolate, which seems like an impostor thing to do and m'nms are better so.... that's how the candy crumbles! BUT, with this post, and the introduction of my coined "heart expenditure," I found this candy suiting and this recipe humorous. Y'all know I enjoy a good joke and I often "roast" myself so.... Ingredients
Instructions
Mr. Fine Lines is a guy that I thought was special since he picked me over my bestie through Snapchat. He kept contact throughout the course of three homes I packed and unpacked through and through 2 1/2 boyfriends. Sidebar: It's not that "the 1/2" was half a man but, he was someone I was kind of serious about but declined his request to become his girlfriend. He was fine being in the background because he values his freedom more than his space; for him, they are not interchangeable. He wants his space to be consumed with bright screens, clouds of smoke, materialism, ammunition for verbal and physical jousts, and mentions of wanting a family. The freedom is for the freaking. He was a strategist, apparent in his use of words and applications of compliments. He alludes to you being the "perfect woman" but, never the perfect woman for him. It's irrelevant if I thought we were compatible. Which, since I'm pouring this out... I didn't, point blank. The timing was "just right," revealing "just the right amount" of what-you-wanna-hear while spooling the mystery. He never revealed too much, yet talked quite a bit-- especially leading up to the trip where he flew into my space, head, and fears. In the countdown of the 2 weeks prior to him landing in Dallas, he strategized the physical aspect of our anticipated time together. After our first encounter, he revealed that he seldom speaks to girls that sleep with him on the first date. The double standard that he relayed through the phone enraged me and quite frankly, should have ceased future efforts. I rebuttled with, "Shhyeah, like you weren't naked pressed against me. You wouldn't have stopped me if we did it." "Probably not, but how am I to know that girl doesn't sleep with other guys on the first date?" Rolling my eyes, I must have suppressed that red flag wrapped conversation because I entertained not one but two flights for our second encounter/date/rendezvous. The first one, I canceled because of Covid and another lust-interest that was pursuing me HARD. He even went as far to make a bet with me of who would give-in first to sex. YUP, for $50. So much for reserving bets for noble steeds. Am I so naive to scroll past the painfully sexual text messages to see what I wanted to hear and ONLY what I wanted to hear? Like the card game, I'm gonna call BS on ALL of it.You teased me with words like:
Your finale wouldn't be complete without:
His actions conveyed he dreaded a relationship with me since my plans, like most living in this pandemic, are not etched in ink. This is contrary to his words in a prior conversation about an ex-interest of mine that has now deemed himself pan-sexual. Mr. Fine Line got slightly heated and used choice words about such an arrangement. He stressed that it should be just you and your person. Then, in person, he exhibited macho status when Since he was all about things being "just right" and him "not wanting to share" yet he could be active on dating apps In no effort to be ironic, his dessert is a British breakfast and he is the closest person to Ron Swanson I've ever met. I give you, like the 3 home-cooked meals I gave him with not as much as a "thx bro," |
Culture is another delectable part of visiting an unfamiliar city. One of my favorite places is Toledo, Spain. It was inhabited by the Romans and then taken over by Iberians and then captured by The Spanish. You can see all the different influences across the city and heavily in the architecture. Toledo, Spain is actually where the phrase "holy Toledo" came from because it's considered one of the holiest cities in Europe. It symbolizes Roman Catholicism, Muslim, and Judaism. |
"Put a fork in me, I'm done!"
I'm going to continue to write and travel but fork dating for the rest of 2020~
Rhythm and words quite familiar
A melodic explanation of a mood
Track 8 presumes her a filler
Then an anthem not for sharing
Lyrics establish loyal pursuit
One-and-only self-preparing
Steel trust now accessible loot
A flash of light with notification
His active dating app chorus
Revealing wilting patience
B flat taunts: there was no "us"
Flashbacks of a similar cadence
Side two seals it with kiss
Force his memory into just a dance
Unfinished record, inevitable dis
Sure showed the record player
Leveling up the harp and heart string
Casting her skies shades grayer
Farewell to another shoal fling
Catfishing is when someone posts an attractive picture of themselves that is no longer an accurate portrayal of them, current day. Sometimes, they even go to the extent of using someone else's picture!
I was minding my business, baking as usual when a new add from snapchat flashed on my phone. I glanced at the screenname to ensure it wasn't something like grinder4lyfe or puffNpussy and then the bitmoji icon and accepted the request. For those less than obsessed with Snapchat, you can create your own avatar on Snapchat to resemble you.... mind you, this is typically how that person sees themselves and isn't always an accurate portrayal.
Why would you prose such a statement, Stephanie? Could you be foreshadowing something?
I returned to the conversation. His nerd side was exemplified when he geeked out about Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones (I have seen neither). I know, I know. GOT is on "my list" to watch but, I don't really sit still long enough to get wrapped into a show and I fell asleep in the theater for Lord of the Rings. I actually enjoy seeing someone nerd out on something that is important to them since I do the same with classic Disney, all things Joker, and Harry Potter (think I'm a Griffinpuff). The words exchanged between him and I mixed like melted butter and melting marshmallows.
As I continued to multitask, I received another snap message, which took my focus off Mr. Bottom Feeder for a few seconds. When my eyes returned to the list of screen names, It took me at least 30 seconds to figure out which one he was (sorry not sorry? plenty of fish in my sea ;)
When I finally found which one was him, I asked for a picture to save in the chat. He sent one already loaded on his Tinder. This is where my suspicion rose.
"I like your beard," I commented politely, "but can you send me a current one?"
Confrontation for the FIN!
He tried to blame society and the shallow focus and I was having NONE of that.
I said, "Look, if guys are able to swipe left or leave a date with a girl that is not his preferable circumference, then I can certainly do the same. This was dishonest and I have nothing left to say on the matter."
I left in a splash.
Dessert should be something fishy.... lol maybe with Swedish fish or imitating?
- 4 tbsp butter
- 4 cups miniature marshmallows
- 6 cups crispy rice cereal
- 20 gummy worms
- 2 boxes green-colored Fruit Roll-Ups
- 30 fish-shaped gummy candies
- Prepare a 12 by 17 inch baking sheet by lining it with waxed paper and spraying the paper with nonstick cooking spray.
- Place 2 tablespoons of butter in a large microwave-safe bowl, and microwave until melted about 45 seconds.
- Add 2 cups of miniature marshmallows to the bowl, and microwave until the marshmallows are completely melted, about 1 minute, stirring every 30 seconds. Stir the mixture until it is completely smooth.
- Add 3 cups of rice cereal and stir until completely coated. Immediately pour the mixture out onto the prepared baking sheet. Spray your hands with nonstick cooking spray, and begin to press the candy into the sheet in a thin layer. Begin working from the edge of the shorter side of the sheet. The mixture will only cover approximately half of the baking sheet.
- With the short side of the baking sheet nearest you, place a pair of gummy worms an inch from the edge. Place another pair directly below, and repeat until you have a line of worms stretching across the baking sheet.
- Using the waxed paper to help you, roll the cereal mixture around the gummy worms, pressing firmly to make a tight roll. Take a large sharp knife and cut the log away from the rest of the mixture. Place it off to the side, and repeat the worms/rolling/cutting procedure for the remainder of the cereal.
- Slice the logs into 1-inch rounds. Wrap each round in a strip of green-colored Fruit Roll-Ups.
- To make the fish-topped “nigiri,” repeat steps 1 to 4 to make the rice candy base, but do not press the rice mixture as thinly. It should be about 3/4 inch thick once pressed into the baking sheet.
- Cut the candy into rectangles about 3/4 inch by 1 1/2 inches. Place a candy fish on top of each rectangle, and wrap a 1/2-inch strip of green Fruit Roll-Up around the entire package.
- For a finishing touch, decorate your sushi platter to look more authentic. Suggestions include substituting chocolate sauce for soy sauce, green-tinted whipped cream (or melted white chocolate) for wasabi, and thinly sliced pink fish for pickled ginger.
Spring 2020
Anyone that has underestimated Steph or DatesandCakes is gravely mistaken-- including Steph herself.
I didn’t think you are sleeping w all these guys. Don’t worry about what others think, it is none of their business, and everyone has their own lenses for the world. You are making the best decisions for you and your life. I wonder what dessert that would be, one for you, a big heart for loving yourself so well and not settling out of fear, boredom, or hormones!
I've been running this race of life in a unique pair of shoes that have more than "soul." I've prided myself on not checking (or climbing inside) the boxes society has built:
~no kids
~no wedding
~no dog
~no house
~no tenure
~no debt
~no regrets
~only in love once
I've got more issues than Travel & Leisure, but you bet your sweet pippy, I'm still worth the read. We can take turns and one of us may want to turn around, but I'm going to smile more about getting the emotions and experiences out on paper (digitally). Getting it out is half the battle.
Aside from God and my friends (which are people that treat you like family; many happen to be blood), travel is what makes me tick. It's quite literally what I live for and dream about. Recently, and quite often in the past, I've had people cast disapproval on me for that "lifestyle." The guilt made me cower in the conversation like a hermit--- which could not be the furthest animal in comparison to me! My wit is a cheetah, my humor is a hyena, my commitment to a cause I believe in is a dog, and my endurance is a zebra. My emotions and existence is a zoo, but I'm worth admittance :))
*this applies to you*
After all, we're all running the race, but the real value is not in the crowning, but that you finish. And, that you gave it your damndest.
To be called a "horse's ass" may be a great insult, but is it worse than half-assing something?
In response to the challenge my blog friend, Anne posed, I have selected a decadent dessert for a sweet traveler empath; a triple threat needed to earn title of triple crown.
**Fun Fact: Stephanie actually means "crown"**
Kentucky is 1 of the 24 states I've visited. Practically 1/2 way there ;)))
The Dessert I Designated for Myself (for once) is Kentucky Derby Day Pie
- 1 cup sugar
- 1/2 cup flour
- 2 eggs slightly beaten
- 1 stick butter melted
- 1 cup pecans chopped
- 1 cup chocolate chips
- 1 tsp vanilla
- 1 unbaked 9" pie shell because I'm enjoying it today, since I often "fill" others around me anyway :))
- Preheat oven to 325.
- Mix sugar and flour well. Even though it's a different kind of flower, pick YOU.
- Add eggs, butter, vanilla, and subtract guilt.
- Add pecans and chocolate chips. Mix well.
- Pour into pie shell and bake 45-60 minutes or until golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean in the middle. If your crust starts to get too brown before the middle is cooked, you can cover the pie with foil and continue baking.
Excuse me for still riding the high of National Woman's month... or don't. "Quite frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."
IF a kitchen is or has been the only place a woman belongs in the past 80 years! Let that sink in. Longer than most of your grandparents have been alive.
Doesn't automatically render a space
In your jumbled head of drafted plans
Shading the night to grays and tans
He brushed your curl aside as if it were practice
Outlined your firm expression that of an actress
Breathing close in a rhythm to hypnotize
Temporary this moment, yet to realize
Just because the scene has set doesn't mean he is
On the syllables of your name or how it sounds with his
So don't mistake a mere glint for an enlightening
You'll meet a thunder, fit to be his lightening
Since I bounce like an 80's pogo-stick, I figured I should expand on my adventures hobbling and wobbling around in a medical-grade (not Steve Madden unfortunately) Velcro boot. So... I ended up having broken toes I mentioned two posts ago for more than 6 weeks!! Possibly because I didn't seek medical attention or possibly because I can't stop, won't stop....
1. Conceal the pain
2. Blend dark colors with my black boot for fashion forgiveness
3. Cover-up the restrictions and contort adventure
My aunt offered me first dibs at a dog and house-sitting gig for 3 weeks in October; Hallo-YEAH! October 31st is my second favorite holiday; my first favorite fluctuates but, Halloween is always a solid 2nd. <3
Voodoo Fest has ALWAYS been on my bucket list! Having the privilege of spending every summer and fall break in New Orleans, this vibrant city easily became my heart's home. From Jackson Square (Main Name proof I belong there ;) to The Saints to crawfish boils, that place exemplifies my existence. I don't really know what that means but... it felt right and a little spicy ;)
Why did I waste my time talking to a guy on the phone from Texas while I was in my favorite city in Louisiana? Because I was in a pathetic state where I thought I needed the comradely. It's not that he showered me in compliments or promises of some fruition when I returned, I think it was he was a deep voice on the other line of my phone. Bleak, I know, but we only talked while I was in New Orleans. I've GOT to re-channel my energy. .....This is actually one of the conversations I had with Comet (pictured above). He ghosted me and I'm not even focusing on it on this post? Wow, that's.... progress.
Now back to the 3 week stay in a boot in New Orleans in a transition.
Since I was less than impressed with the Voodoo line-up, I signed up to volunteer so I could gain admittance fo free. The fest was 3 weeks away, so to ensure I soaked up as much of this vibrant city as possible, I met with my bad ass uncle (yes, that is an official name I call him to his face. Any birthday card or Christmas present is addressed to him as so) who gave me the low-down on local music throughout the city.
"Damn girl! You're hoofing it in that thing!"
"I won't let this thing stop me. I'm headed to a Blues Fest right now!"
He chuckled, "I see ya!"
I continued with my swag (bahaha) and as the rip of an electric guitar greeted my ears, I breathed easy. Bypassing the over-priced beer tents (there were at least 7. I approve) I made my way to the stage that had a man with long curly hair adjusting his kapo and microphone. Moving further from the stage currently producing music and locking my eyes on the magician to perform, I was in a trance. Yes, I know I wrote magician and I meant it. He was a blues rockstar that reminded me of "The Publisher" I dated in 2018. Long hair, passionate, and guhhh could he play the guitar (I later learned).
While caught in my trance, I rooted my feet in a spot right behind a walkway so my view would never be fully obstructed. Immediately to my right was a group of Californians that offered their lawn chair before I could make my way to the dry patch of grass below my mismatching shoes.
"Oh no, I'm fine! Thank you so much though," I smiled.
"Are you sure?" said the only guy in the group of four westerners.
"Absolutely, but the thought means a lot!"
It turned out, I had made friends almost instantly. Once the set of my "magician" started, I returned comfortably to my trance swaying and really soaking in the blues. Gosh, why don't I listen to blues more often... or at all? I thought to myself.
As the songs bled into each other, I was taken with the soul on stage and almost didn't hear the man from the group of four beside me insist I sit in his chair while he get in line for more beer. Smiling at the hospitality and actually up for the gesture, I transferred my weight to my hands and then back to my uninjured foot to stand. My first step toward the chair, I almost ate it and plummeted face-first into the lawn of Lafayette Square Park.
The three Cali girls seated in lawn chairs leaned forward in urgency and one even let out a gasp. Catching myself, I laughed, "See? Clumsy. That's how I got this boot in the first place!"
Once seated, we began conversation as the Blues's set played it's final song. You bet your sweet self I hopped to my uneven feet for a standing ovation when they were done. Gah! That was talent.
He seemed really humble when a burly stranger slapped him on the back and said, "great playing man. Haven't heard blues like that since B.B. King."
"I really appreciate that man," the star responded while placing a hand on the stranger's back.
As he continued to walk to the north side of the park, the guy who's chair I was in, returned to our pow-wow spot. As I scrambled to get up, the two girls to my left rose to their feet and offered one of their chairs. In a game of musical chairs where I couldn't lose, I casually and carefully made my way over to one of the vacant seats.
I conversed with them about music and travel (my two favorite things on the planet) and then they invited me to smoke with them. Pulling out a blunt from his breast pocket, he lit it and just like the rap songs, "puff, puff, pass."
My eyes were probably as big as my boot. "Oh... I have a new job I am trying to land and if I get it, I've gotta pass the drug test in like 2 weeks. Thanks though!"
"You sure?" His wife asked in-between inhales.
"Oh yes," I smiled.
I listened to another set before setting off to church in The French Quarter. I absolutely LOVE being able to walk everywhere in a city. This suburan girl never got that. That's probably part of the reason I loved Madrid and Barcelona so much. Okay.... that's only 1 of like 9834 reasons ;)
Wouldn't you know as I made my way further through downtown, I found myself smack in the middle of a 2nd line for a wedding!!!
Anywho.... after shimmying my way out of someone's special day, I made my way to church and continued to make my way around this fabulous city at the same pace I could have under normal conditions.
Let's be honest, I'm anything but normal. This blog of 400 something posts is living proof of that.... Until next post of this NOLA series.... cheers!
You're the type of person I wish I couldn't like.
Intellectually sound with a meandering spirit.
You've faulted girls before, but I still want to hear it.
Bunny slippers and thick skin,
You pay no mind to the lane you're in.
Tickled by serendipity, you indulge
Personally astonished by the "me" I divulge.
My desire is not rooted in the intangible type.
I took comfort in being where you set your sight.
Under a street light, opportunity and lips locked,
Even though neither ship was docked.
Converting time and available hours,
Leasing the place where idleness cowers.
Paralleling pains in hidden trails,
Any other comparison this one pales.
Until the last page I am intrigued.
But alas I refuse to follow the lead.
Oh! I broke two toes... did I forget to mention?
Well, on a beautiful October night in Fort Worth, I made the first bone break/fracture/sprain of my entire existence on this planet. My best guy friend in Texas...
[Side note: I have 3 best guy friends that are differentiated by location. They have earned their title in this chronological order:
- Texas- code name "Kitty" from Monster's Inc. Yes, I am "boo." Established in 2016
- Charleston- code name "The Beard to be Feared." We share the same favorite beer brewed in Kilkenny, Ireland; we shared it locally at Madre Rua in The Low Country. Established in 2018
- Mobile- code name "The Desk." We had failed travel plans but he's a great goober to keep around. Established in 2019]
Achem. Now back to the story! **There will probably be several more side bars. I regret nothing**
Meeting up with his crew (consisting of all couples this time), we began our own bar crawl and hit the high points of West 7th Street.
"Dude, my toes are killing me," I blurted to "Kitty."
"Steph, stop being a little BITCH!" he laughed, ordering two of his go-to vodka and Redbulls. Passing one over to me, we exchanged a smile and I swallowed the pain and the blueberry flavored energy drink with bottom-shelf vodka.
In between engaging in conversation with his friends and scurrying over to the dance floor that was illuminated with spinning lights and 10-year-old hip hop, I developed a new dance move:
"Gosh [Kitty], I'm in a 9 out of 10 in pain and I don't have insurance. What the fuck am I gonna do?"
"Shit dude, I don't know," he slurred.
"I'm gonna get another drink."
"Ayeee!" He cheered.
While waiting at the bar, I watched the male bartender on the north side flirt with a pair of blondes while popping open two slim, silver cans. Once setting them on the bar, they were revealed to be nothing other than White Claws. I chuckled at the stereotype and an array of endless memes crossed my mind.
Smiling, he fired some flirty compliment across the bar I didn't commit to memory.
"A vodka soda would be delightful if you don't mind."
"Certainly, babe."
Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my card as I looked over my shoulder. The two blondes with White Claws were watching. Awk-ward, I thought.
Sliding my card on the only part of the bar that was dry, I thanked the flirtatious bartender. Thinking to myself, I swear, if this fool winks at me.... and he did.
Good grief, Charlie Brown. I retrieved my card and passed the White Claw representatives. After returning to the table, one of the girls in the group rocking a pair of Vans informed me we were going to stay at her place.
"Oh, are you sure?"
"Steph, look at him. You really think [Kitty] can drive? And you can't drive a stick."
Not in any state to argue with her facts (Lysol kills 99.9% of germs), I nodded and offered a "thanks, girl."
We made it back to her and Kitty's best friend in the group's apartment, revealing a sofa-bed for the two visitors, Kitty and I. Needing some air, I walked onto the patio with the girl rocking the Vans. Both feeling our drinks a little, it turned into a confession session. She asked why I was so adamant about me and kitty being friends and colored us as 'a cute couple.' I brought up the past and his reputation in high school, in which he dated 3 of my friends... some, concurrently. Then, called me "Sarah" when he saw me at a bar 7 years after high school.
Wait. Hold up. Carry the one.... yup, the math computes: I'm old.
She told me what I should've seen then, "But, that was the past...."
The stylish girl with the Vans had many other insightful things to say that night, but I am still transfixed on those 5 words. Gah, how many times have I let it rule me, stop me.... and even change me? I always gloat that I wouldn't change my past because... you guessed it-- It made me who I am. But the Stephanie today has to beg the question, why do I let it define a person and actions moving forward? Fear of repeating history. That's why it's a tested subject in school, isn't it? To prevent a revolving hamster wheel reality. This revelation did not hit the drunk, blue-streaked brunette with two broken toes... no, no. Instead, this clumsy creature was hit with the spins, nausea, and a hell of a hangover the Sunday to follow. I stayed balled up on my side of the spring-supported bed until it was time to recover in my own bed.
I limped out of Kitty's car and phoned guy friend number 3 to seek medical advice. After free consult from the highly-acclaimed medical trainer, "The Desk" deemed they were broken. Even if I had the concept, an American over 26 with a job that doesn't offer benefits doesn't have the luxury of, the doc couldn't do anything but put it in a boot and collect his/her copay. So, I polled the audience and found a boot I could borrow ;) Shout out to Elle.
Don't believe me?
GASP! Did she just admit...
You bet your friendship I did! Oh, speaking of friendship-- today's blog post is brought to you by a foundation for a delightful loaf bread called Friendship Bread. You can't make the bread without this labor-intensive "starter."
"Kitty" could not have been more apologetic when I informed him of the breakage.
"Shit, Steph! You were for serious!"
"I know you can feel my eye roll through this phone line," I spat.
Laughter was exchanged on both lines of the phone and we made plans for his birthday bash.
This story became the staple when people asked what happened when they saw my boot.... Feeling a sequel coming on..... hold the drum roll and my earrings!
To Start the Recovery of Brokenness, Amish Friendship Bread Starter
- .25 ounce active dry yeast (or 1 packet)
- ¼ cup warm water 110° F/45° C
- 1 cup flour
- 1 cup sugar
- 1 cup milk
Instructions
- In a small bowl, dissolve yeast in water. Let stand 10 minutes.
- In a 2-quart glass, plastic or ceramic container, combine 1 cup flour and 1 cup sugar. Mix thoroughly with a whisk or fork.
- Slowly stir in 1 cup milk and dissolved yeast mixture.
- Cover loosely and let stand at room temperature until bubbly. Consider this Day 1 of the 10-day cycle.
Author
Chef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart...
Archives
April 2022
March 2022
February 2022
January 2022
April 2021
March 2021
February 2021
January 2021
December 2020
November 2020
October 2020
August 2020
July 2020
June 2020
May 2020
April 2020
March 2020
February 2020
January 2020
December 2019
November 2019
October 2019
September 2019
August 2019
July 2019
June 2019
May 2019
April 2019
March 2019
February 2019
January 2019
December 2018
November 2018
October 2018
September 2018
August 2018
July 2018
June 2018
May 2018
April 2018
March 2018
February 2018
January 2018
December 2017
November 2017
Categories
All
2020
2 Centuries
Alluring
Anxiety
Artful
Baking
Baking Video
Bar Tales
Best Friends
Bittersweet
Boredom
Boy Bye
Brave
Breakup
Broken Hearted
Celebrations
Cheater
Chocolate
Convenience
Creative Writing
Date By Numbers
Dates
Dates And Cakes
Dating
Deep Thoughts
Depression
Dick Pic
Dirty John
Double Infinity
Dumped
Empowering Growth
Encouragement
Endings
Exploration Of Self
Fear And Insecurities
Fling
Flirt
Friend Zone
Ghosting
Giving Love A Chance
Goodbye
Grief
Gypsy
He Just Wanted The Cookie
Hilarious
Holidays
Honesty
Hope
Hopeless Romantic
How To
Humor
Hurt
I'm Sorry
Independent
Infidelity
Is Chivalry Dead?
Judgmental
Just A Fling
Kissing
Learning
Life Lessons
Lo
Loss Of A Loved One
Lyrics
Moving On
Music
My Love Life Is A Joke
Mysterious
National Poetry Month
Netflix
New Orleans
Nice Guys Finish Last
No Good
Not A Fairy Tale
Numb
Online Dating
Online Dating Blog
Pandemic
Past
Perfecting The Player
Perspective
Physical
Poetry
Power Of Confidence
Relationships
Relationships And Love
Self Respect
Self-Respect
Sequel
Serial Dater
Series
Sex And Relationships
Shallow
Temporary
Texting
Text Messages
Time
Touch
Travel
True Story
Unique
Used
Very Bad Dates
Vlog
Why I'm Single
Words