By Christmas. The Capitol Hill apartment full. David and Karen drove from Bellevue. Kevin drove up from Portland. I made bibimbap for dinner. James made his mother's beef noodle soup. The two cultures on the same table.
The Capitol Hill apartment kitchen is small. We make it work.
Sunday farmers market on Wallingford Avenue. The kabocha at the Asian vendor's stall. The shishito peppers. The brokered conversation. We bought too much. We always do.
Reading at night. A novel by a Korean-American writer about a family in 1990s LA. I underlined four sentences. The underlining is the marking-of-the-territory of the soul.
I made coffee at seven. Hana ate cereal at seven-fifteen. Min wandered down at seven-twenty-five. James left for work at eight. The morning was the morning. The standard.
I sat at the kitchen counter at six AM with a notebook and a cup of green tea. Writing time before the house wakes. The pre-light hour is the only writing hour I trust.
David came over for Sunday dinner. He brought some tomatoes from the Bellevue garden.
Rain on the porch all afternoon Saturday. The Wallingford rain is its own weather. I sat with a book and a tea and did not move for two hours.
A blog reader wrote about her own adoptee experience. We exchanged three emails this week.
My Korean is improving. Slowly. Painfully. Conversationally adequate now. I can argue about kimchi proportions in two languages, which is a milestone in any marriage between mother and daughter.
I read a thread on the Korean Adoptee subreddit Saturday. Some posts brought up old anger. Most are people figuring it out in real time. We are not unique. We are a community.
The kimchi crock was bubbling Saturday morning when I checked. The bubbling is the right bubbling. The fermentation knew what it was doing.
The shiso on the south fence is fragrant and unruly. I brushed past it taking the compost out and the smell stopped me. The smell is the country. The smell is Jisoo's apartment.
Sprint review at Amazon Friday. Two hours. I could have been on a podcast.
I texted Jisoo a photo of the kimchi in the new onggi pot. She replied with the thumb-up emoji and a Korean-language critique. The duality is the gift.
Jisoo sent a photo of the dol the kids did for our visit last summer. The photo went on the fridge.
Yoga Tuesday morning at the studio. The forward fold released something I had been carrying in the shoulder. The mat is the mat.
Hana left a Lego on the kitchen floor. I stepped on it at two AM. Standard.
The newsletter went out Sunday morning. The opening sentence took an hour. The piece took five. The piece was what it needed to be.
James and I had date night Friday. Indian restaurant on 45th. We ate too much. We sat in the car after talking about nothing for an hour. The marriage is the marriage.
Therapy Tuesday with Dr. Kim. We talked about the parents — the two sets, the one living, the one gone, the one who became real after thirty years and the one who was real my whole life and is now gone. The work is the layered work.
That Christmas — David and Karen from Bellevue, Kevin up from Portland, bibimbap and James’s mother’s beef noodle soup side by side on the counter — someone needed to bring something sweet to close it. The kitchen was small and the table was full and the feeling required something precise, something with edges you could cut clean. I made these blondies the morning before everyone arrived, before the house woke, in the pre-light hour I trust. Espresso in the batter because I had just made my seven o’clock cup, brown sugar frosting because warmth deserved warmth, and chocolate chips because Hana would not forgive me otherwise.
Espresso Chocolate Chip Blondies with Brown Sugar Frosting
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min (plus cooling) | Servings: 16 bars
Ingredients
- For the blondies:
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
- 1 cup packed light brown sugar
- 2 large eggs, room temperature
- 1 tablespoon instant espresso powder
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1 cup all-purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 3/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
- For the brown sugar frosting:
- 4 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
- 3 tablespoons heavy cream
- 1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
- 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- Pinch of fine sea salt
Instructions
- Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 350°F. Line an 8x8 inch baking pan with parchment paper, leaving overhang on two sides for easy removal. Lightly grease the parchment.
- Make the batter. In a medium bowl, whisk melted butter and brown sugar together until smooth and combined, about 1 minute. Add eggs one at a time, whisking well after each addition. Stir in espresso powder and vanilla until fully incorporated.
- Add dry ingredients. Add flour, baking powder, and salt to the bowl. Fold with a rubber spatula until just combined — do not overmix. Fold in chocolate chips.
- Bake. Spread batter evenly into the prepared pan. Bake 22–26 minutes, until the top is set and golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs. Do not overbake. Cool completely in the pan on a wire rack before frosting.
- Make the frosting. In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt butter. Add brown sugar and stir constantly for 2 minutes until the sugar dissolves and the mixture bubbles. Add heavy cream, bring to a brief boil, then remove from heat immediately.
- Finish the frosting. Whisk in sifted powdered sugar, vanilla, and salt until smooth and glossy. Work quickly — the frosting sets as it cools. If it thickens too fast, whisk in a teaspoon of cream.
- Frost and set. Pour warm frosting over the fully cooled blondies and spread to the edges with an offset spatula. Let stand at room temperature 30–45 minutes until frosting is firm. Lift from pan using parchment overhang and cut into 16 bars with a sharp knife, wiping the blade clean between cuts.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 238 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 82mg