Hello, First name / my friend!

I've been DEEP into my current project (it's invaded my dreams) and realized today it's been a minute since I checked in with you! It's zucchini season in my part of the world (or, courgette in other parts of the world) and I'm positively overrun with them. There's probably a joke in there about too much zucchini…it'll come to me after I send this.

 

Even though we've had one brutal heat wave after another, I've taken to baking chocolate zucchini loafs and cakes. This one's my favorite--quick, easy to assemble, naturally gluten-free (don't sleep on almond flour, y'all) and call me a heretic but I don't think it needs the frosting.

 

This pan-fried portion of the summer always makes me think of The Belle and the Beard. It's set at the tail-end of summer but Jasper and Linden are quite a pan-fried pair. Here's a little snippet for you:

As I exited the vehicle, I spotted Jasper sitting on the curb. She had her legs folded in front of her and her arms braced on her thighs. The red skirt she wore was wet and dirty, and her navy blue sweater wasn't in any better shape. Her head was bowed like she was praying or meditating but I doubted she did much of either. Didn't seem the type.

I dropped down beside her and stretched my legs out. "How's it going, Jas?"

She sniffled. I handed her a bandana from my back pocket and she accepted, saying, "We can't keep doing this."

"What's this?"

"You coming over here and handing me a hanky because I'm crying again. I have a reputation to uphold, and routinely needing a hanky or any other rescue isn't part of it. I'll have you know I once managed twelve hours with a broken finger before leaving the office to see a doctor and there was another time when I worked a full week while I had pneumonia."

"Those are not the badges of honor you think they are, but sure, I'll stop handing out the hankies. That's one way to fix a problem that doesn't exist."

"You're very rude," she said on a sob.

I glanced away as she blotted her eyes. "Sorry."

"You can ask," she said.

"About what? I need you to be more specific."

She waved a hand at the fire truck in front of us. "About this."

"Okay." I ran my fingers through my beard as I watched several firefighters pile into the truck. "What's going on here?"

She gave a pathetic little shrug that squeezed my heart. "Oh, you know. Just a small fire in the kitchen."

"Please tell me it wasn't the crockpot."

"Nope." Another shrug and I ached. "The toaster oven."

I glanced to the driveway again and the box abandoned there. It was about the right size for a countertop oven.

"I was making some toast for lunch and—"

"What do you mean, you were making toast for lunch? That's not lunch."

She turned her tearstained face to me, her expression as fierce as ever. "Toast is a perfectly appropriate lunch."

"It's…it's just bread, Jas."

She gave me a look that said I knew nothing. Not a single thing in the whole world. "I take my toast very seriously. It's my favorite thing to eat, and fancy toast can be—"

"Fancy toast? What the fuck is fancy toast?"

 

For more Jasper, Linden, and fancy toast, check out The Belle and the Beard.

I hope you're doing well, my friend! Until we chat again 🩷🩷