Just so you know, this is not a blog post I’m writing late Sunday night, much later than usual, propped up in bed with pillows and blankets, aware of how soon morning will come. Also, I’m certainly not typing cliché phrases for you about my heart being heavy or my mind racing, saying that the reason behind this is too hard to explain.
Instead, let’s say I wrote this hours ago—when I wasn’t making a vinaigrette for an arugula salad and then chopping cabbage for a cole slaw, say; before I wasn’t getting news that would set in motion change I’ve been anticipating (dreading) for months. Because if I had been writing this then, well, right now I’d still be ignorant, and, probably sleeping. Sleep sounds very, very fine.
Thursday night, I made these two desserts: s’mores bars and chocolate pistachio shortbread, while we ate spring rolls and Bagel Bites and before I sat down to watch T.V. and—oh, the irony—fell fast asleep on the sofa, where I wouldn’t wake up until past 2 AM, after which I’d stumble to bed and sleep through my alarm in the morning.
The first comes from a recipe online, which I found through Google when a request for “something like s’mores in a bar” was given to me; the second, from that new cookbook my mom brought back from vacation. Both have all the makings of desserts I love: chocolate, sweet, rich, fairly easy to assemble. Yet one was the clear winner, as is evidenced by its being half-gone the next day, while the other still remains almost untouched.