high-bar baking

This recipe is a staple. A true classic. Never goes out of style. 

I have a friend who I’m fairly certain is still only friends with me for this coffeecake. 

If you knew the friend, you wouldn’t think I was joking. 

This is the Two Chicks from the Sticks Overnight Coffee Cake. All others need not apply. I mean it. Nobody holds a candle to this recipe. I do it without the walnuts, of course. And you really should let it cool completely. But let me tell you, I’ve cheated before and eaten it warm from the pan, and it’s a totally different experience. Do it at least once. Be bad. 

I almost never use buttermilk; the blurb at the top even says the author’s mother never did. A cup of milk + 1T of vinegar + 10 minutes is a completely acceptable replacement. Randomly, this cake also doesn’t use any vanilla, which has never actually come in handy for me, but could. 

It freezes, it ships, it makes days. I’ve been told multiple times that “it isn’t too sweet!”, which is lovely to hear but a little completely illogical. There’s an inch of brown sugar on top, people.

Have the vacuum ready or eat over the sink is my recommendation. Or, I guess, use a plate like a real adult.

But we’re not here to talk about cake. Please.

Because when I rushed to make this coffeecake before my friend’s dinner party, I was coming off a pair of work calls. My skip level boss wanted to talk expectations, what I’d have to do to get the next promotion. And then I wanted to talk about those expectations with my go-to mentor.  Did I say talk? I meant “catatonically panic.”

There are 14 weeks until the beginning of September, when decisions start. Fourteen weeks, four days I’m taking off, three Federal holidays. Fourteen weeks, Slim Shady. 

I have to get my act together. More than that, I have to… figure out the act. How do I relearn working hard? What are the milestones on my projects between here and there? How do I make myself ready for “independent execution”? Is there ever such a thing as ready? 

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be?” — Marianne Williamson