Do you ever get that when something feels like it’s so far away that it’s never ever, ever ever going to actually happen, and then, ALLOFASUDDEN, it’s next week?
Well I do. I’m not sure if it’s some sort of chronic denial disorder, but some plans, no matter how concrete, just seem surreal.
Next week I’m done with Ottawa. Done done. Not just like, “hey O-town, it’s been great, see you again next year.” It’s like, “hey O-town, it was nice knowin ya. for real.”
What looked like such an epic four year journey back in ’08, now feels like it’s been a coffee break. Or like, a grueling coffee break full of courses called Taxation, challenges like escaping the freshman fifteen, and friendships that I never thought I would build, but you get the whole metaphor thing.
I’m excited to wipe this fella off my mini pink dry-erase board, don’t get me wrong, but you know…. there are nerves. For definite. I’ve gotta be ready to tackle the globe you see, and it is…
not unlike my love for kabocha squash.
(irrelevant and random)
I’ve got all of these plans.. and goals… and hopes.. and other big giant maybes… and now I’ve actually got to DO them. See I was just keeping them around because they sound nice. You know, like when the 87 millionth parent’s friend asks you what you’re going to do when you graduate? Oh I have a nice long list of potentials. And they’re also great for when you’re feeling all quarter-life crisis-y and trying to study the tax implications of a corporate wind-up and you start to ask yourself just what’s left to live for. That’s when all of that big-picture-magic-hopes-and-dreams mumbo jumbo comes into play.
BUT NOW I ACTUALLY DO THESE?! Not real.
Okay real. I’m excited. I just really need to pack up my kitchen supplies.. because for serious… there’s a knife set, many pots, some spatulas, and a whoooole lotta linens between me and my hopes and dreams. And four exams. But whatever. One week… to tie it all up.
The hardest part? Mi amigas. Real goodbyes suck. I think my strategy is just to not let them happen.
I’ll see them all again. No doubt. That.. or I invite a whole whack of good ones over for a dinner party and make sure they’re all so full after the entree that:
1) We cannot possibly think of things other than our bulbous mid-sections, and therefore I cannot be sad or acknowledge that this could possibly be a real goodbye.
2) They can’t stomach dessert. This will result in a delicious Pear Galette with a Gingerbread crust to devour primarily yourself over the course of the next week-ish.
It was good. Christmas-type good. Winter-type good. Holiday-Spice good. That’s my favourite type of good. It’s what gets me through the whole “abandoning an entire stage of my life” thing. Christmas-liciousness.
It was also pretty.
If you’re trying to avoid facing life stuff and would rather have a dinner party and stuff your face with wintry goodness? Make this Pear Galette. The crust is gingerbread. Come on now.
Pear Galette with a Gingerbread Crust
Adapted from Epicurious
- 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
- 4 tablespoons firmly packed brown sugar
- 2 teaspoons ground ginger
- 2 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
- 3/4 teaspoon ground allspice
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 stick (1/2 cup) cold unsalted organic butter, cut into bits
- 1 large egg yolk
- 2 tablespoons dark molasses
- 3-ish medium (organic) pears, sliced thinly
- 2 tablespoons Fresh lemon juice (I’m sure concentrated would work)
- 1/3 cup brown sugar
- heaping 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
- extra course sugar for sprinkling
To prepare crust, whisk together the sugar and other dry ingredients (up to and including salt) in a large bowl, then cut in butter with knifes or a pastry cutter until it resembles a coarse meal. If you don’t have the proper tools, dontcha worry, just crumble the mixture together with your hands. Nobody will die. In a separate small bowl whisk together molasses and egg yolk (you can reserve the white for a wash later), then knead or mix egg mixture into the dry mixture until a dough forms, if it’s still a bit crumbly this is fine, just pack it into a disk and cover with plastic wrap. Chill for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile combine all of the filling ingredients (except extra course sugar) in a bowl and let sit until your crust is prepared.
Once your dough is chilled, Preheat your oven to around 375°F. Roll out your dough into an approximate circle on a lightly floured surface, or directly onto a sheet of parchment until it is nearly an 1/8 of an inch thick. Arrange your marinated pear slices in some super artistic form ontop of your crust, leaving a margin around the outside to fold over in a cute rustic way. Once your edges are folder over, brush the crust with egg white if you wish, then sprinkle the entire galette with course sugar. Put in the oven on a parchment lined baking sheet for between 20-25 minutes, or until the edges are beginning to brown. Serve warm or cool with whipped cream.
Eat it when you should be eating square meals because you filled your guests too full to eat it for you the previous weekend.