give me permission

2014051710:45


In my sometimes too self-controlled, hyaline world, I long for someone to give me permission to just...be. There's an intricate tear in the cosmos that ruptures during strange weather. When negative ions build in the stratosphere prior to a thunderstorm, earth & air are open and charged and filled with the static of endless possibilities. My taut rein loosens; worry, fear, and overthinking hesitation escape from their crowded symmetrical stable. Someone somewhere in the universe breaks my ice with an invisible velvet voice: 'Let fly!' I absolutely adore late spring and its surreal, ether filled elements.

Amid the swelling tree buds, late-blooming lilacs, and distant storms, I wanted to make a toothsome dessert that captured the lush, sylvan atmosphere outside my yawning windows. Last week, while absently nursing a second cup of strong coffee, I came across this exquisite cake from The Ginger & White Cookbook. I knew we had to meet!  

I buy impromptu gluten free muffins and cookies but I'm still a bit awkward when it comes to the alchemy behind the process. This cake, however, makes a very welcoming (and enticing!) ambassador. I shall definitely tiptoe more often through the foreign world of gluten free baking Loan.

A cosy-pebbly mix of ground pistachios and almonds gives the cake a rich, luxurious texture. The glaze is a simple mix of sugar, lime juice, and chopped pistachios; when drizzled over the cake, it forms sweet/tart rivulets that wind their way throughout the entire loaf. As soon as I took a bite from my first slice, I knew the next serving would have to be larger. I shared, *almost* hesitantly. Everyone was equally spellbound. This cake certainly took me over the moon and back again - falling in love with portals and storms, and the verdant galaxies of ground pistachios & zested limes cheap designer handbags.