I woke up at the butt-crack this morning to the faithful patter of ice-snow against my window. I say “faithful” because every year for the past 29 years of my life, it has snowed on my birthday wherever I am – including the year I lived in Los Angeles. Despite a week’s worth of forecasts promising balmy 70 degree weather, God managed to eeek in a few flakes for me.
This year, two very dear friends are gifting me with a home-cooked birthday dinner in my honor. They asked me to give them some recipe ideas, and I happily dispatched a few that I’ve wanted to try including a recipe by a chef-friend that fits perfectly with my Irish birthday.
With able and kind cooks lovingly cooking all day, the least I could do is bring my own birthday cake. So, before the sun broke dawn, awake, kicking and certainly feeling no older than yesterday, I decided to get a head start on my 29th birthday dessert.
With half of dessert done, I’m off to work finish up some projects. See you all soon – come back to find out how steel-cut Irish oatmeal figures onto my birthday plate!