But it's not so bad seeing carrot salad and a bottle of Old Man Guava at home, either.
3.27.2014
Carrot Salad with Mint and Dates, and Old Man Guavaberry
But it's not so bad seeing carrot salad and a bottle of Old Man Guava at home, either.
6.12.2011
Nutmeg Spice Cake To Have and To Hold
It’s official, summer wedding season is on. I hosted an engagement party for two dear friends last week and I’m still recovering from my sister’s bachelorette Florida getaway the past weekend. Already, certain themes for this series of matrimony have emerged. Lifelong happiness? The need to shun sweets to squeeze into a dress?
No, for me the theme is ice cream. And cake. Paired with booze. This is entirely my issue. And I have to live with that.
In my defense, I hadn’t planned on my sister’s bachelorette dinner in Daytona being so dismal that it forced forgoing the final course: our party—instead—opting for a taxicab ride to the Winn Dixie for dessert, etc.. I hadn’t planned on washing down a gallon of ice cream with plonk at midnight on a beach vacation. Flash to me with a bottle of cheap Riesling in one hand and a tub of Rocky Road in the other.
On a more successful dessert fĂȘte, my friends’ engagement party on my patio featured a buffet of homemade ice cream, paired with a number of fizzy alcoholic beverages for an adult ice cream float fest that would have made Bacchus proud. And there was cake. Specifically, nutmeg spice cake with a rum meringue buttercream.
While cocktails + ice cream is good—and sometimes a necessity—booze with cake is better. This will forever be true for me. And it likely explains why I have such strong feelings about wedding cake. (Read: + open bar.)
I now sit with a leftover slice of cake and can’t help but think how mind-blowing it would be to wash it down with some brandy. The cake itself is like reincarnated eggnog. Each ethereal bite is a cakey reminder of the special occasion cocktail I hold near and dear to my heart.
With this dessert, two souls become one. It’s the perfect marriage of innocence and depravity, a fluffy, moist cake, wrapped in a meringue buttercream and tucked in with a nip of rum. It’s not overly showy, nor is it overly complex to create, but it’s a recipe worth hanging on to all the days of your life.
This cake is patient, this cake is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is nutmeg and rum together, in arguably their finest hour.
So I, Emily, take you, nutmeg cake, to be my pastry partner. And with this fork, I thee eat.
Nutmeg Spice Cake with Rum Meringue Buttercream
8.02.2010
Keep Calm and Carry Rum
There is a lot we can learn from Hemingway. He wrote classics. He taught us that simplicity says so much. He drank. Hemingway’s scotch and lime drink: 3 ounces of scotch, with lime. (This is a man after my own heart.)
If you are lucky enough to live in Boston, you only have to venture to Whole Foods to get it; though, how long it’s available is anyone’s guess.

