“…Love alone can transform insanity, confusion, and strife. No system, no theory of the left or of the right can bring peace and happiness to man. Where there is love, there is no possessiveness, no envy; there is mercy and compassion, not in theory, but actually—for your wife and for your children, for your neighbor and for your servant….Love alone can bring about mercy and beauty, order and peace. There is love with its blessing when “you” cease to be.” – Jiddu Krishnamurti
Today marks 48 moon phases, 16 seasons and 4380 meals or 4 years since I first embarked on “my year of local”. A culmination of tessellations moving in a synchronous rhythm without gaps or overlaps. Looking back through my posts I feel grounded, inspired and loved.
The familiarity of home cooked food has always given me a sense of comfort and connection no matter where I am. I want to share the recipe for my mom’s cinnamon biscuits this post. They remind me of early mornings as a child waking up to their intoxicating smell and my mom’s smile. They bring me such fond memories to make. It helps make being away from home for long periods of time easier and sharing them is a great way to make new friends! Buen Provecho
Blend in a large bowl:
4 cups flour
2 tsp. salt
8 tsp. baking powder
½ cup sugar
Cut in 1 cup of Butter
In a 2 cup measuring cup beat 2 eggs then add butter milk to make 2 cups (to make butter milk add lemon juice to whole milk)
Gently incorporate the wet mixture into the dry mixture being careful not to over work the dough.
Roll out half the dough at a time.
To make the filling melt ½ cup of butter and use half on each dough segment (¼ cup). Next sprinkle 1 cup of brown sugar and cinnamon to your taste on top of each of the two dough segments.
Roll the dough length wise into a spiral wheel and slice into buns.
Line a baking pan with parchment paper and place the cut buns next to each other on the pan.
Bake at 400 F for 15 min.
Staring up at the full moon this evening from the Patagonian desert I’m reminded of my insignificance, my significance and my connection to this world. I often forget just how many stars are in the sky, out here in quiet dark of the desert they seem infinite.