March 24, 2020 Galit Gottlieb

Almond Berry Breakfast Cake (gluten-free/vegan)

INGREDIENTS

1 cup non-dairy milk

¼ cup oil

1 small seeded apple

1 small seeded tangerine or orange

½ cup maple syrup or agave

2 TBSP apple cider vinegar

1 tsp pure vanilla extract

½ tsp almond extract

2 cups almond flour

1 cup oats

2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp cinnamon

¼ tsp salt

1 cup of washed berries (strawberries should be halved or chopped)

2 TBSP almond or other gluten-free flour

  • In blender or processor, blend all liquid ingredients
  • In a large bowl, stir dry ingredients
  • Pour wet into dry ingredients and stir a few times until blended
  • Pour into a prepared 8” round or loaf pan
  • Toss berries with flour and press lightly into the batter
  • Bake at preheated 350 oven for about 50 minutes until nicely browned
  • Cool in pan before plating or serving
  • I like refrigerating this cake but it can be left out on the counter for a couple of days

p. 28 Smothered: A Whipped and Sipped Mystery #2

Now Alene began measuring ingredients for Ruthie’s strawberry breakfast cake. Neal had probably let the children eat fatty, salty burgers and fries at dinner the night before. She hoped he’d bring them to his mother’s place for lunch today. Mitzi always showered them with love, brought them to the playground, let them people-watch from her balcony, and sent them home well-fed and happy. If Mitzi had to work and couldn’t take the kids, Neal would do some activity that required little effort and get them fast food, the kind Alene rarely allowed. He’d probably introduce them to another one of his girlfriends, so that they’d be confused and upset. They’d all be crying by the time they got home.

At least her father was being cared for. Blanca, Alene’s cleaning lady who had morphed into caregiver for her dad, would come at eight and stay until Cal fell asleep after lunch. Alene would probably get home before he woke up. Even though he liked being alone in the apartment and accused Alene of fussing, she tried to make sure someone was always close by. She worried that he’d fall, since his disease, finally diagnosed the previous year, caused weakening in his muscles. Or maybe he’d drop a glass that would shatter, and she’d come home to find him bleeding on the kitchen floor. Cal assured Alene that he was doing his exercises, building up his strength, and would soon be back to walking the bike path two miles to the North Avenue bridge and back.