peach and blueberry crumble / me and gluten are bros

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I really like pie. A lot. I’ve been in a season of life where I bake a lot of them- salted caramel apple pies, peach and cherry galettes, maple and cinnamon apple hand pies and mushroom pesto pop tarts, all recipes that I’ll share with you one day. A lot of times when I think about pie baking, I picture a pie cooling on the windowsill, fresh from the oven, with a fall breeze and a fluttering curtain. It’s a homey, comforting, old fashioned picture. And the fall breeze thing is mostly because I’m sweating to DEATH right now in Mississippi and I’ve been “forced” to eat lots of these. Send help.

But this is not about pie. Its about crumbles, and I really like crumbles too (crisp? same thing to me, but I’m sure there are nuances I’m not adhering to). Sometimes I feel like crumbles get a bad reputation as being the ugly stepsister of pie. Who would want a crumble, if they could have pie instead? Because: Crust, duh. But! Crumbles have streusel topping! With oats and crunchy bursts of sweetness! And if you have an over abundance of summer fruit and no butter on hand (gasp!), you can still make a crumble.

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i-woke-up-like-this cake / flourless chocolate torte

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You know how in movies, and maybe sometimes in real life, a lady will show up dressed in something cute, looking Veela status amazing, get complimented on it, then she’ll giggle-laugh and say “oh this old thing!” ? Maybe she’ll even throw in a casual hair flip or hand wave. And she’s being all nonchalant and Beyoncé like “I woke up like this” and you KNOW she didn’t wake up like that and just throw something on. You know she spent hours in the bathroom grooming, buffing, scrubbing, tweezing, shaving and exfoliating. You know she spent hundreds of dollars at the gym, running and cycling and ab-crunching. You also know that she went to about 18 different boutiques to find “this old thing” that she “just threw on”. You just know. Unless you’re a dude, and then you probably don’t know. Believe me, this kind of charade is a thing.

Unless. Maybe she really did just wake up like that and throw on something old and still look amazing. Perhaps she’s distantly descended from the same ancestors as Gisele or Taylor and she was born with model thin legs, perfect skin and Michelle Obama arms. And she makes you question all that time and money you spent in the bathroom, at the gym and in all those boutiques.

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This cake is like that. It feels fancy. It easily impresses others. You taste it, and you think WhoaThis took hours to make. Its dark and smooth. The chocolate melts in your mouth like fudge, but without being overpoweringly sweet. It’s decadent. It’s fancy enough for a wedding, but it’s not so fancy that you can’t serve it for a birthday or a book club.

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