Holy hell, guys. This Monday, the high temperature will be FIFTY NINE DEGREES. I can break out my flannels. I can buy more flannels. I can wear booties and skinny jeans. Wedge boots and flare jeans. Chucks and boyfriend jeans.

Do you see a theme?

I will also eat every apple that comes within a foot or two of my face hole. I’m making pumpkin dessert 3x/week. Hot cider. Cocoa. Tea cocktails. Gin–because it’s good in any season.

I will curl up with a plaid blanket, (because fall=plaid, duh.) cozy digs, and a fall beverage with my books and my Netflix every evening that I can.

So I’m going to do something CRAZY today. I’m going to pair a book, a Netflix rec, a recipe, and AN OUTFIT for each day of the week. Because I can’t get over my love of Autumn, and you can’t make me. I’m a super simple girl who gets really excited, ok?

THIS is the perfect blanket, btw. (It’s LL Bean)

Outfits, food, and book choices based on what you watch on Netflix!!

netflix streamteam

First up!!





Sherlock by cassandra-cat-tan featuring grey boots

Madewell coat

H by Hudson grey boots
$245 –

Bowling bag

RECIPE!!! These oatmeal cream pie scones. They’re not fussy, but warm and inviting all the same. Also, they’re scones. So they’re extra Britty.
Forrest Gump


Marni real leather purse
$1,015 –

Long jewelry

pic is link.
The Nightmare Before Christmas


Oasis lace top
$53 –

J Brand black pants
$400 –

Ashley Stewart suede boots

Rachel Entwistle gold jewelry
$210 –
In Your Eyes


Before I Disappear


Tall top
$380 –

Topshop skinny jeans
$61 –

Chan Luu wrap bracelet

That was WAY FUN. And a lot more time consuming than I would’ve thought!

What do you think of my picks?


Though Netflix sponsored these posts, all opinions and recipes are my own.
Though Netflix sponsored these posts, all opinions and recipes are my own.

Trick or Treat Yourself.

Get Series(ous) #13 Lucky #13. If only it was Friday the 13th! But we can pretend, no? Because it so totally fits for the quirky series I’m featuring today.

The series I’m featuring today is as sweet as the chocolate tootsie roll pops I steal from my unsuspecting children’s Halloween buckets. And it holds much less guilt. (Who am I kidding, I don’t feel a bit guilty for pinching those! I WALKED WITH YOU FOR HOURS, KIDS. I also did your makeup, and opted NOT to bring a flask. YOU’RE WELCOME, children!)

Also, tootsie rolls and their pops are the sketchiest of Halloween candies. So easily re-wrapped. I’m really like a royal taster on this one.

This series features all the things I love about a saccharine-sweet easy read: insta-love, high likelihood of untimely death, and interfering old women.

It’s a series that just sparkles with happy feelings and mirth. If you were looking to find a way to fly to Neverland, this series could be your “happy thoughts.”

(Hint: it’s a PNR, so happy thoughts could also lead to embarrassing situations in public, if you know what I mean.)

So, for whom is this series a good fit?

Let’s say, you’ve recently decided to read a metric ton of Gothic and Victorian novels for an article you’ve been writing, and you CAN’T TAKE ONE MORE FUCKING ALLUSION TO THE BREVITY OF YOUTH OR THE LOSS OF CHILDHOOD IN POVERTY. (It gets old.) You are someone who needs an escape, and really wants to laugh.

You loved Buffy the movie version. You’re a huge fan of Once Upon a Time, and are really sad that you can’t live in a themed paradise. Your dream job is that of a tour guide on a good ways to die while eating donuts and drinking margaritas, tour.

Your favorite colors are orange and black.

Followed closely by purple.

Your favorite time of year is RIGHT NOW, BECAUSE, DUH, HALLOWEEN.

Pumpkin Spice Girls is the name of your all kitty girl group tribute band.

You’re a ton of fun in a 100 pound package.

You excel at drinking wine in your pajamas after you’ve removed the devil contraption known as a bra.

fuck this bra o’clock starts now.

What’s the series?

What’s the story?

Welcome to Nocturne Falls, the town where Halloween is celebrated 365 days a year. The tourists think it’s all a show: the vampires, the werewolves, the witches, the occasional gargoyle flying through the sky. But the supernaturals populating the town know better. Living in Nocturne Falls means being yourself. Fangs and all.

 Why did I love it?

This series is pure, riotous fun. The romance is heartfelt, but admittedly ohsofast. (Not unlike my high school boyfriend.) The storyline is such that it keeps the reader engaged from page 1 to “The End.” That’s difficult to do. I never felt myself beginning to skim the paragraphs, hoping to speed up a slow part or two.

I love that even though the plot is absolute fantasy, I feel like I knew the characters after reading the books. I feel as though I’d recognize them on the street, and be able to have a fun night with any of them. (Most likely the werewolves, as they have children, and totally understand the “need to be home before bed” thing. A quality that’s so overlooked in werewolves these days, no?)

And the world. Oh man, the world. I want to live in Nocturne Falls. I want to be able to trick or treat every weekend, and buy enchanted jewelry, and decadent chocolates from a cheerful vampire. I want to hang out with a cranky she-wolf receptionist, and get shakes with gargoyles.

I want to be able to carve a new jack-o-lantern every week according to my whim.

Kristen Painter crafts these novels with more than just a natural aptitude for story development and world building. Kristen Painter’s Nocturne Falls is positively double-bubbling over with humor, heart, and howlingly hot storylines.

4.5 big pumpkins.

The recipe inspired by the series.

It had to be chocolate. The heroine in the first book is a chocolate shop owner, and these characters have some serious sweet tooths? fangs? Either way.


Kristen Painter was nice enough to tweet me her favorite combination of sweet flavors, and she chose a classic.

Peanut butter and chocolate. You simply can’t go wrong. Therefore, I give you,

Trick or Treat Yourself Peanut Butter Cup Fudge Cake

Peanut Butter Cup Fudge Cake


Trick or Treat Yourself Peanut Butter Cup Fudge Cake

by Cat Bowen

Prep Time: 30 minutes

Cook Time: 25 minutes

Keywords: bake vegan vegetarian cake


    for the cake

    • 6 oz 72% dark chocolate, chopped
    • 4 oz vegan butter stick or butter
    • 1 cup superfine sugar
    • 2 flax eggs or 2 chicken eggs
    • 1 cup of unsweetened almond milk heated to 95F (or more, depending on flour’s dryness and if the flax pulls more liquid)
    • 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
    • 1 tsp vanilla extract
    • 1 tsp instant espresso
    • 1.5 tsp baking powder
    • 2 cups cake flour
    • .5 tsp salt

    for the fudgy ganache

    • 4 oz 72% dark chocolate, chopped
    • 1/2 cup unsweetened almond milk
    • 1/3 cup creamy peanut butter (as in Jif, not whole foods)
    • 1 tbsp maple syrup

    additional needs/options

    • non-stick spray
    • chopped nuts


    preheat oven to 350F and spray a 10″ cake pan with cooking spray and set aside.

    in a microwave safe bowl, melt together the butter and the chocolate on high for 45 seconds, stir, repeat in 10 second increments until glossy and melted

    stir in sugar and espresso powder until combined

    add remaining wet ingredients and stir well

    sift in flour a little bit at a time until just combined

    batter should be as thick as a very thick milkshake, if it reminds you of brownie batter or loose dough, add more milk.

    add in salt and baking powder


    pour in prepared pan and bake for 25-30 minutes or until a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean

    let cool completely

    for the ganache

    melt the chocolate either in the microwave or on a bain marie

    remove from heat when glossy and melted

    add in peanut butter and stir until glossy and thick

    add in milk, stir

    (it will look weird here, have faith.)

    add in maple syrup and the gloss MAGICALLY REAPPEARS! You’re like freaking Hermione Granger. You’re welcome.

    spread the ganache on top of the cake either in the pan, or overturned onto a plate.

    spread ganache out from the center

    top with crunchy nuts

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    Goddess of Badass.

    Hey guys!!

    To be 100% honest, I am wiped. I have been working feverishly on my own novel and my scholarship that my reading schedule hasn’t been as rigorous as I’d like. It’s making me a wee bit starkers, but I’m still managing about 4 books/week.

    Though my trips to the gym have been spread out a bit more than I’d like, and that’s making me even crazier. I am not simply one who can abide a lack of physical activity. It just doesn’t mesh. I realize that I’m not taking care of myself as well as I should be, and that doesn’t typically end well for anyone.

    But today is the first day of fall. It’s the holiest day on the Hebrew calendar, and it’s Mabon.

    Oh, Mabon! How I tried to understand what the fuck you were when I was a teenage make-believe Wiccan. How I loved the movie The Craft. It celebrated all the things I loved best as a tween/teen. Black clothing, dark lipstick, revenge against bitchy girls, the ability to fly, unattractive jewelry, emo journaling. (Wait, I guess this blog is kind of my new emo journal, is it not? OH WELL. You can take the girl out of her walk-in closet filled with black candles and eighth grade best friend, but you can’t take the black candles and nag champa out of the girl–because that smell lingers.

    This always ended in personal injury.

    (no, seriously. I just ordered some black candles for my Samhain display. Also, white ones. No red, though. That would be tacky. {And they burn pink, not red.}) Also ordered: black gauze, a few candleabrum, skulls, pumpkins, Victorian-style potion bottles, and one stuffed wolf. I’m considering some nifty black light Christmas lights, but haven’t decided. If you’re wondering the look I’m going for…

    Pretty much. Yeah.


    I really love Halloween. It’s one holiday that really brings out the best in people. And by that, I mean, they pretend to be an entirely different person for a few hours. In many cases, a zombie is entirely preferable to that asshole in the History department who talks about the “good ol’ days” pre women’s suffrage. Please, please, eat some brains. 

    As for my costume? I’m not sure, yet, and I’m a bit worried. I’m vacillating between the goddess Scáthach, and Bridget Bishop. I can get away with a lot warmer clothing as Bridget, and for those of you who may not know, Scáthach is the Celtic/Scottish goddess of slaughter, and Bridget Bishop was the first woman executed in Salem, Massachusetts for witchcraft. I love the idea of a badass bitch who trains warriors for battle even as she’s dropping a few kidlets of her own. Her name actually translates to “she who strikes fear.” Which is pretty damned incredible. And Bridget Bishop? Everyone knows her tale, and it’s tragic. However, it serves to remind us all that in the not-too-distant past, our country failed its most vulnerable. The Salem Witch Trials are often referred to in terms of why feminism was able to gain a foothold in the United States, and it remains a crucial point today.

    She Who Strikes Fear vs She Who Was Victim of Fear.

    Both badass.

    If all else fails, I could go as Cersei Lannister or the Red Queen.



    What I’m reading.

    On kindle:
         Pucked by Helena Hunting I may DNF. I have an image that perfectly sums up this entire          book thus far. I actually IG’d it.

    The Old Curiosity Shop Charles Dickens.

    On Scribd.

    Tomorrow There Will Be Apricots by Jessica Soffer

    Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer

    On Audible.

    Georgia on my Mind by Marie Force

    Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan (for the Captain…and me)

    The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah

    Now? FOOOOOOOD. I’m on an umami kick. I’m obsessed with the “fifth flavor.” It’s a lot like The Fifth Element only decidedly fewer leather straps. Love, soy sauce, what’s the difference?! I don’t see one! I give you…. Umami Hummus. (cue angels singing.) It’s how I imagine hummus would taste if my favorite sushi bar started in on the dip train. BTW, they SHOULD. Now that I’m a vegan and all. They should read my mind. Umami Hummus


    Umami Hummus by Cat Bowen Prep Time: 5 minutes Keywords: raw appetizer side snack vegan

    Ingredients (1 large jar)

    • 1, 12 oz bag of frozen edamame, shelled, frozen–thawed.
    • 3 tbsp tahini
    • 4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
    • 1 tbsp soy sauce
    • 2 tsp prepared wasabi
    • juice of one lime
    • 1 tsp mirin
    • 1 tbsp white miso paste
    • 3 tbsp chopped cilantro


    add all ingredients into a food processor and blend the hell out of it.

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    A Very Proper Gal-Sneaker.


    I wrote this review after drinking the recipe/props (because it had soda in it and would go flat, I’m not one to waste, people!!) and therefore, just, well, I’m a bit arfarfan’arf. Also, I will also be injecting Victorian slang into the post, because I can. *here’s a helpful list. I will also try to throw in nonsense words made up by Victorian authors, e.g. “bandersnatch” a la Lewis Carroll, because it sounds dirty, and he was a buttoned-up religious mathematician with a million kids–so you know he got freaky. He just did it missionary style–as was proper. (But I hear his wife oft yelled what was written on Alice’s cake’s label.)

    Let’s get busy.

    A few (three?) weeks ago I got the happiest of the happies email (in Victorian, we’ll call that “magic box messaging”–which should not be confused with “magic box massaging”–which is entirely different.) It was the ARC for A Very Proper Monster by Elizabeth Hunter. (appearing in a duo with Grace Draven titled Beneath a Waning Moon out Oct 1)

    Holy, omg, Batman! She wrote A PARANORMAL HISTORICAL ROMANCE. Don’t worry, I didn’t faint. There may have been swooning. I will not lie, Elizabeth Hunter is a chuckaboo of mine, but that doesn’t mean I’d review it if I thought it was not up to dick. However, this novella, this snippet, is up to a lot of dicks. Like, a passel of dicks. (Wait…I can come up with a better collective noun)..a Nixon of dicks.

    A Nixon of Dicks that’s not up to dick.

    So, hold on to your Nixons, folks. Get this!! Remember how, like, a minute and a half ago, Elizabeth Hunter released The Scarlet Deep? Yes? Well, remember Tom?! The big, burly son of Murphy? The former fighter? The sexy ogre of Dublin? Yes? This is HIS STORY. And that of his super sweet, batshit crazy mate, Josephine.

    We get their story. We are able to understand how this dynamic couple came to be. Turns out, Josephine, who in Victorian times was wealthy enough to be “eccentric” and not “off her damned meds” or “creative,” was already quite dying when Tom was conscripted by his sire to court her. FUCKING CONSUMPTION, AMIRITE?!

    Here’s the thing: Lady Coughsalot doesn’t know that the enormous dude fixing to make her his–is a walking magic bloodmobile.

    Thank goodness she is a fan of the bite bros, and happens to be enamored with the dark tales of the creatures of the night, because she is able to envision the life of the undead as housing a lot more of a nanty narking than could other mortals.

    I really, really want to tell you about my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE BIT of the book, which occurs after Josephine is turned (not a shocker–we knew this from her previous books) and JoJo goes balls-to-the-wall Angelina Jolie in Girl, Interrupted JABBERWOCKY on someone and Tom comes in after.

    It’s fucking amazing, and you should read this short little novella if only for that scene.

    Imagine her as a bloodthirsty vampire. AWESOME, RIGHT?!

    I have never been disappointed by Elizabeth Hunter’s books. This novella proved no exception. I liked it so much, I wanted more. I wanted a full 200+ pages of batshit and bigdude after bedtime. With this novella, Elizabeth Hunter proves that she is able to write not only spectacular modern fiction, but phenomenal historical fiction as well.

    Tis a foolish woman (1)

    (emphasis mine)

    And I want more.

    Seriously, if she wrote a steampunk novel wherein a lady privateer shapeshifts into a Kracken to Robin Hood the fuck out of some rich whalers, and then falls in love with an Orca shifter and they make whale-o-pus babies who own a sushi bar dirigible, I’d read it.


    Four Big, Beefy Punches.

    Then I’d make this cocktail inspired by the book.

    Because I DON’T LIKE WHISKY or Whiskey or whatever, I used moonshine–which is a whiskey/whisky CORN BOOZE, but I like it.

    Apple Pomegranate Moonshine Punch

    Apple Pomegranate Moonshine Punch

    Apple Pomegranate Moonshine Punch

    by Cat Bowen

    Prep Time: 2 minutes

    Keywords: beverage

    Ingredients (2 cocktails)

    • 2.5 oz Apple Pie Moonshine
    • .5 oz cinnamon schnapps
    • juice and arils of one medium pomegranate (pith picked out)
    • 3 oz club soda
    • sliced apple


    separate arils from juice by straining

    shake ingredients together with ice sans arils, soda, and apple slices

    strain into two glasses

    top with soda and arils, add slices


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    My She-ro.

    Today’s post is not a “book review” or a “Get Series(ous),” post. It is a “seriously, you’re wasting your life if you aren’t reading this book,” post.

    There is at once a multitude of people for whom I admire, and a remarkably small number of people of whom I would truly claim to live in the Pantheon of my mind as a hero. Eleanor Roosevelt, Václav Havel, Sir Nicolas Winton, Ann San Suu Kyi, The Notorious RBG/Justice Ginsburg, and Kim Phuc are among those I would readily and eagerly call “my heroes.¹”

    However, when it comes to heroes whom I truly wish to emulate, there is but one–Madeleine Albright.

    I’m no madwoman, I have no delusions of grandeur in the political arena. I am a writer with a potty mouth who goes to school too much. However, I am also an academic, a mother, and Czechoslovak-American. Madeleine Albright is also all those things. She was, by all accounts, a tremendous professor who stirred the intellectual imaginations and passions for the political process and international relations in the heart of anyone fortunate enough to find themselves in her lecture hall. By all accounts, her children have all matured into spectacularly ambitious and accomplished women. She is a singular human being.

    She’s the baddest badass bitch in America. She was the first female Secretary of State in these United States. She was one of the closest advisors to the President during one of the most controversial presidencies, ever. She is a diplomatic powerhouse who rocked the international arena with her bold decisions and laser focus. Kosovo, the assassination of the Israeli president, Africa in crisis, the rise of Russia (part deux.) a global China, the list of diplomatic nightmares she faced during her tenure was maddeningly long. She managed to juggle these with a skill and competency which will stand in the annals of history as nothing short of astonishing.

    Now, I’m no psephologist, but I believe that if you look closely enough at the 1996 elections, the Presidential Cabinet/advisor choices would play no small part in Bob Dole’s defeat. People simply didn’t trust the quiet Senator’s inner circle. They were political “cronies” to the public. The economy was good–ostensibly because the President was doing a good job, and had good people advising him. Kansas wasn’t thriving as much as the rest of the country. (To be absolutely fair to Dole, it was a Fallwellian state desperately trying to retain its agrarian economy in a time where it simply wasn’t feasible.) Even so, President Clinton (I hope I get to use that again in the present tense!!!) had a team of advisors one could liken to the School of Night. Almost supernaturally gifted in politics, the economy, and sensitive to the human condition, advisors which included Madeleine Albright were a group in whom America could place their faith.

    Bring it.

    Now, as a retired Secretary of State, Ms Albright spends much of her time in the public eye giving speeches, and of course, writing books.

    The first book of hers which I read was Madam SecretaryMy platonic soul mate, Amy, texted me not long after she began reading it: “I think I’m in love with Madeleine Albright, which is a problem because we’re both straight.” (or something similar.) I am ashamed to admit I didn’t pick up the book immediately. I had so many other books on my TBR, how could I possibly fit in a 750 page memoir? However, when I finally downloaded the audiobook, I was hooked.

    It wasn’t just that Ms Albright is a wonderful writer, given to precise text and concise details, it was the sweeping nature of the memoir. I was alternately cheering, fist pumping–ala Gloria Steinem–and weeping with sadness and joy. The stories about her Czechoslovak parents, the manner in which she recounts their many successes, and even instances when their behavior baffles, is infinitely warming to the soul. She speaks boldly about the tragic nature of her entrance to this country–what was left behind, and what was gained.

    I remember listening to my grandmother tell me many stories of what it was like for her family to leave Czechoslovakia; how dangerous it was, how terrifying, how full of hope. I imagined my family making that same voyage across that same cold, watery road which Madeleine Albright traversed.

    I empathized with Ms Albright as she detailed life as a young married woman, wed into a family far different from her own. Different religions, different cultures, different status. The consecrated fields of new motherhood about which she writes are as fresh in the text as they are to any mother who has ever experienced that joy and agony. She even laughingly recalls the rapid swelling of her person when she was pregnant with her twin daughters.

    She understands–truly understands–that horrible place women find themselves; that place where a woman feels as a world alone. A place somewhere between motherhood and occupation, in which all of us are occupied. That search for intellectual independence apart from the ties of family, but not so independent that the cords binding you to this amazing thing you’ve built cannot be wrapped around you, and recoiled quickly back unto your heart. She acknowledges that perfect balance is impossible, but that maybe a mostly-happy medium can be achieved. She also demonstrates via her personal narrative, how the motherly instinct is not just a tool of the trade in family, but how it enhanced her judgement and reactions in her high-level jobs.

    Ms Albright goes on to write about her years in the UN. It’s fascinating. The inner machinations of the beleaguered institution are even more terrifying and intriguing when explained by someone who lived it. No countries were expected to perform as much or give as freely as the United States–and she doesn’t hold back. Her surprising candor, combined with the insight only achievable by experiencing it firsthand, and having time to reflect upon that experience, is not only surprising, but serves as yet another startling reassurance of the faith I place in the politicians she trusts.

    Madam Secretary

    Then there was Prague. Her home. I will not lie to you, this portion of her memoir touched me very deeply. I was weeping from the horror of it, expelling forth tears of joy from the pride of it, and dwelling in the awe that settled over me when listening to her tell me about the Velvet Revolution. At one point, she recounts the story of the student uprising, and the parents of the students joining the call to action. She talks about the orchestras playing in the streets, and the final fall of communism in Czechoslovakia. She was friends with Václav Havel. She, a Czech immigrant to the United States, was able to return to her home country with all of the knowledge of a free state, and experience in the political arena, and assist in helping her homeland find their way to democracy. It was utterly poignant, and somewhat heartbreaking. The implied counterfactual is there, and she discusses it. “What if?” What if she hadn’t fled with her parents? What if she was dealt the same fate as the rest of her family? What if she hadn’t been?

    Madeleine Albright

    The third portion of the memoir discusses her time in office as the Secretary of State. It’s fascinating and juicy without being sensational. Here she is, trying to deal with Benjamin Netanyahu and Yasser Arafat, and at home, Kenneth Starr has has panties in a bunch and a pitchfork up his ass for Clinton. In an instant the media circus set upon the White House in an insane tornado of unfortunate. How can you affect change in a country where the congress is more concerned with The President’s “little president” than with, say, NUCLEAR ARMAMENT?! Needless to say, your neck will ache from all of the head shaking. It’s baffling, and at no point does she give Former President Clinton an out. She doesn’t excuse his bad behavior, or even come close to justifying it. She is certainly not gagged by her loyalty to the Former President, and I respect that a great deal.

    -The Right Move in a tight spot is not to

    At this point in the book, the reader is sure like they couldn’t feel any closer to her story, but in chapter 22, she discusses the embassy bombings in Africa in 1998. Hundreds killed and thousands injured across a span of nations, led by Bin Laden. She writes about those dark days, and the reader (if old enough to remember) is instantly back in that place, remembering the horror. I was getting ready for acting class when I turned on the news while I dressed. The screen was filled with terrifying images I couldn’t wrap my head around. I was fifteen years old. The America I’d always known was suddenly put on the defensive. What would happen? Would there be war? Little did any of us know, this would soon be a dusty memory just three years, one month, and four days later. Fourteen years ago, today. At that time, America had not experienced anything of its kind since Pearl Harbor. Chilling.

    This is the only book I have ever read wherein I have had some format of it (audio/ebook/HC) on my person for two months+. In total, I have probably read it, through parts and chapters, four times. To say the book is inspiring and life-changing feels trite and insincere, but it’s absolutely true. You are simply not the same after you read it. Madeleine Albright is certainly a force to be reckoned with, for whom America, the world, and especially women, should be grateful.

    Five Stars and Stripes…and pins. Definitely 5 pins.

    When I decided I’d review Madam Secretary, I immediately knew I needed to feature a Czechoslovak recipe to go with the post. After listening to the book, I realized that Ms Albright and I might actually be food soulmates. Sauerkraut on toast, dumplings, tea and sweets. KIT KAT BARS. Oh, and taco salad. (oddly enough, My aunt Rett makes the BEST taco salad on the planet, and now I’m desperate for some.)

    This recipe is definitely one of my favorites, and with peach season in full bloom, it only makes sense. Did I veganize it? Yep. But honestly, this only enhances the final product–in both flavor and texture.

    What is it?

    Bublanina, aka Czechoslovak Angel Food/Bubble Cake. But better, because the fruit is ALREADY IN IT.

    It should also be noticed that it has a bit more fat in the batter. My people are nothing if not fond of fatty foods.

    Bublanina, fruity angel food cake

    Bublanina, aka Fruity Angel Food Cake

    by Cat Bowen

    Prep Time: 35 minutes

    Cook Time: 35-40 minutes

    Keywords: bake breakfast dessert vegan nut-free soy-free

    Ingredients (16 slices–more or less.)

    • 2/3 cup superfine sugar
    • 1/2 cup grapeseed oil
    • 1 cup flour
    • the liquid from 1 15.5 oz can of NO SALT ADDED chickpeas. (NOT trader joe’s brand. They’re always overcooked and with little remaining liquid.)
    • 1 tsp lemon rind
    • 1/2 tsp cream of tartar
    • 1 lb chopped peaches or whole berries
    • cooking spray


    preheat oven to 400F

    separate 1/4 cup of flour from batch and set aside.

    combine sugar, zest, flour, and oil, stir

    in another bowl, toss the fruit with the flour reserved.

    combine the oil mixture with the fruit.

    in a mixer on high with the whisk attachment attached, whip the bean liquid and cream of tartar into stiff peaks. This may take seemingly forever. (10 minutes, plus!) BUT!! It DOES WORK.

    slowly fold together the fruit and flour mixture with the whipped aquafabas*bean water

    pour into a greased 13″-9″ pan

    bake 35-40 minutes or until golden brown and yummy.

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     ¹The plural of “hero” is “heroes.” If you use “heros,” you’re saying that your fireman/justice/badass bitch “hero,” is a sandwich–tasty, but not altogether appropriate