Seven Sacred Species

For the first time in a very long time, I went to the First Sunday brunch at a friend's house.  It was a small gathering of regulars and a nice visit.  Because it is Tu b'Shevat, the New Year for Trees, I baked Seven Sacred Species muffins.  They were appreciated and two people took a few home.  The recipe is similar to this one, but with pomegranate juice instead of seeds, and mine made eighteen (a good number in Judaism) instead of the dozen the recipe claims.

From Wikimedia Commons / Wikipedia

The Seven Sacred Species are:  Wheat, Barley, Fig, Date, Pomegranate, Olive, Grape (raisins in the case of these muffins).  I forgot to take a photo.  They were darker and a flatter than in the recipe photos, possibly because the batter was a bit wetter (I subbed in some maple syrup for some of the sugar) and possibly because I forgot to turn down the heat when I put the muffins into the oven.  Nobody seemed to mind, and a couple people were impressed that they were still warm when I got there.  Well, I baked this morning and the temperature was above freezing when I went over - yesterday, they might have gotten frozen on the trip!

Other Updates

Looking back at my Resolutions for this year, I am proceeding on all except eating ice cream, which has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with coming home from visiting my parents to find my refrigerator had died, as I reported in the last post.  I now have a mini-fridge but there's no freezer space to speak of, so I have to buy ice cream at the shops, and I haven't been out to one.  That might have to change soon.

I finished a UFO scarf, and made a hat to go with it.  They are pinned together pending donation, so I didn't get a good photograph:

No books finished this week.  I started An Arsonists Guide to Writers' Homes in New England and couldn't get past the first fifty pages or so.  I try to give a book at least three chapters before I quit ("life is too short to finish a book just because you started it") but the narrator was not somebody I enjoyed.  Not because in the story he burned down Emily Dickinson's house (which is still standing in Amherst) but the way he presented himself and the situation.  From the title and cover blurb I thought it would be more enjoyable; definitely not my cuppa.  I'd picked it because of "Writers' Homes in New England" part and being a mystery, but there wasn't enough of either to keep me going.

So now I am into Kate, Remembered and I definitely enjoy it quite a bit more.  Both books will go to the Friends of the Library donations bin when I finish this one.