Growing up I had a complicated relationship with my Portuguese-ness. I kept seeing everything with this invisible dichotomous line; keeping some parts of my life from mixing once I was mainstreamed into public school.
Since I bake everything in real-time and eat everything almost immediately, it’s a little difficult for me to always be timely with seasonal desserts. I like to call this “authenticity”. Ya know, to cover up for the “laziness” in typing.
Remember how my last post was written about how I haven’t really seen my godmother? SURPRISE TWIST: I wrote that post forever ago, and guess what! We now cool again. How fun right? We so cool we even got to go to her house for thanksgiving. She made this… dinosaur of a fucking turkey.
I was originally going to open this up with some cute and beautiful paragraph about how gorgeous and lovely and wonderful the summer has been to me. You know, those kinds of openings that make you think of sandy beaches, bonfires, warm friends and cool beers?
Well sorry, hi hello and welcome newcomers to the anti-baking-blog baking blog. Summer in New Jersey has been nothing but freezing cold rain, sweaty humid days interspaced with me still having to wear a goddamn light jacket outside and IT’S JUNE JESUS CHRIST NATURE GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.
I’m a 23 year old woman!! My life is basically unorganized, chaotic and inherently stupid but baby weezus, you’re making ME LOOK GOOD AND THAT’S SAYING SOMETHING.