What We’re Cooking Sundays…The Women’s History Month Edition

Plus a little Bundt to get the good times a’rollin.

Yes, tonight was supposed to be the night of grilled tilapia and risotto but A talked me into burgers for lunch. Ok, I actually asked if she wanted burgers and she did. So there wasn’t much talking, just a lot of nodding in agreement.

She spent the weekend at her old campus for their annual “State Patty’s Day” drinkapalooza. I spent mine at home in bed with the flu, except for the five hours I spent traveling to and from Brooklyn yesterday. The call to find Catbird NYC and pick up my new rings was unbelievable. I love a boro that warns you that you’d better believe the hype about it. Word.

Instead of tilapia, we made a pound cake and it was, one word, delicious. I bought these blood oranges from H-Mart the other day and it was time to get down with some blood orange goodness. Don’t know what a blood orange is? Well, get thyself to a local store that sells lots of varieties of oranges and introduce yourself. Don’t know what a pound cake is? Don’t be silly.

The cake recipe isn’t my own. I found a delicious one right here, and the only amendment I’d suggest is that I added a bit of fresh lemon zest and a tablespoon of olive oil to the batter to make the cake super moist and give it a kick and a half of tang.

For the topping, we supremed one blood orange, added a tablespoon of honey, a teaspoon of bourbon and a dash of cinnamon. Plop on a dollop (I couldn’t decide if I should go with plop or dollop so I went with both) of crème fraiche and we can all pretend we’re in Paris for a night.

I learned everything I thought I needed to about supremeing from American Horror, Coven, the found out that you can also supreme citrus fruits to remove the white pith when you don’t want that added bitterness to destroy all your sweet hard work. If I was an actual witch, I’d be able to supreme citrus with my mind. Instead, I use a small knife.

We’re home to a new addition, by the way. It’s Chloe the Lop Hop Bunny for the win. She’s the most adorable little thing, ever. The past two days have been a mash up of cuteness, shyness from Britney the Giant Cat and more cuteness from the two of them. Having a bunny is like having a small baby in the house .She comes out, eats, poops, then goes to sleep. I find myself calling out her name: Chloe, stop eating my plant, Chloe come here, Chloe, please use your litter box.

I can see that I’ll need to devote more space here to these two babies and less to whatever it is I devote it to now, if only because the cute factor is through the roof.

Oh, I know, you want to know what happened to the tilapia, right? It’s here – in the fridge, bathing itself in olive oil, lemon olives. It seems pretty happy, but it’s no bunny, that’s for sure.

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