By The Cape. Wellfleet. Connor and Jess have a small rented place near the bay for the second week of August every year, and this year I went down for the long weekend with the kids. We drove down Friday after work. Bumper to bumper to the Sagamore. Then opened up. Then closed in again at Eastham.
Liam saw the bay before the house. He pointed and said Mom. I said I see it, baby.
The cottage is small — two bedrooms, an outdoor shower, a porch with peeling white paint, a kitchen the size of my closet. We made it work. Liam slept on a cot in the corner of our room. Nora and I shared the bed. Connor and Jess had the other room. Connor cooked breakfast every morning. Jess made coffee and laughed too easily, which is a quality I am drawn to in someone marrying into our family.
Beach all day Saturday. The water in Wellfleet Bay was warm. The kids built a sandcastle and Connor showed them how to dig a moat that fills with the rising tide. Liam learned that the tide always wins.
Saturday night we ate at the place in Wellfleet where Sean and I went for our anniversary every year. I had not been since 2022. The hostess remembered me and asked. I said the same as I always say: he's not with me. She squeezed my arm. I had the scallops. They were better than I remembered, which I did not expect.
Sunday morning Connor made pancakes. He had asked me Friday what the rules were. I told him: burn the first, set it aside, blue plate. He did. Liam touched the burned edge. Nora ate three. The pancakes were not Sean's, but they were good. Connor knows what he is doing.
We came home Sunday afternoon. The kids slept the whole way back. I drove with the windows cracked. Jess texted me Monday: thank you. I texted back: thank you.
Group Tuesday. I told them. Bernadette said this is what re-entry looks like. I have not heard a better phrase.
Meghan called at 11 Sunday. She said how was it. I said good. She said good is a small word. I said it is the right one this time.
Food of the week: Connor's pancakes. Different. Allowed.
Connor’s pancakes that Sunday morning — burned first one set aside, blue plate, Nora eating three — reminded me that breakfast made by someone who loves you doesn’t have to follow any rules you’ve kept before. This lemon blueberry soufra is in that same spirit: soft and golden, a little bright from the lemon, full of blueberries the way a good summer morning should be full of things that surprise you. It’s the recipe I’ve been making on the Sundays since we got back — different, and allowed.
Lemon Blueberry Soufra
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 3 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 1 cup whole milk
- 1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- Zest of 1 large lemon
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1 cup fresh blueberries (or frozen, not thawed)
- Powdered sugar, for dusting
Instructions
- Preheat and prepare. Heat your oven to 375°F. Butter a 9-inch round baking dish or cast iron skillet generously and set aside.
- Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and granulated sugar until evenly combined.
- Mix wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk the eggs, milk, melted butter, vanilla, lemon zest, and lemon juice until smooth.
- Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently until just combined — a few small lumps are fine. Do not overmix.
- Fold in blueberries. Gently fold in the blueberries so they’re distributed throughout the batter without breaking.
- Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared dish and spread evenly. Bake for 22–25 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
- Rest and serve. Let the soufra rest for 5 minutes before slicing. Dust with powdered sugar and serve warm, directly from the pan.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 265 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 210mg