I tend not to do things the way I was supposed to.
You’re supposed to stay at home for high school; I went away. You’re supposed to go to college and live in dorms, but I did that in high school and moved into my first apartment at eighteen. When you finish college, you’re supposed to finally move out, but I moved home, to the childhood bedroom I never had.
Most people major in something that will get them a job, and then they get a job. I got a job freelancing during college and then decided to do something completely unrelated to my major when I finally started going to an office. You’re supposed to be in a relationship with someone for awhile before asking them to move in instead of asking someone to move in so that you can start a relationship with them, but I did that too.
The list goes on… and I’m OK with it. Sometimes it gets tiresome, but most of the time, there’s a method to my madness, and I end up coming out at the other side doing well, or at least doing what it was I wanted to do, even if no one around me can understand why in the world I wanted to do it that way. I get a little thrill out of shocking people, anyway, and if I can’t shock them, I’ll settle for perplexing.
I miss out on some things: curfew, which I’m not sorry I missed, or frat parties, which I kind of am. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I’d gone to normal high school followed by normal college… would I still be the way I am? Would I still be so obsessed with proving people wrong all the time?
Probably not. Which is why no matter what I’ve given up along the way–more time spent growing up with my siblings, dorm life in college, the excitement of turning 21 and finally being able to drink legally (I’d been doing it for years in Canada and in France), the celebration of finally getting my new apartment instead of sort of falling into it (and the celebration of having someone move into my apartment instead of just letting it happen one afternoon, willy nilly)–it all seems worth it.
Now going against the grain is part of my personality, much to the chagrin of people around me. Although there comes a time every so often when people are pleased at my inability to follow the crowds, like on the hottest day any of us has seen in months, when I come out with pain d’épices.
Pain d’épices, for those who don’t know it, is a sort of French gingerbread, sweetened with honey instead of molasses. It’s typical in winter, around Christmas, so to have some sitting on the table as I wandered around Westhampton in flip flops is definitely out of the ordinary. But pain d’épices is sweet and delicious at any time of year, and whether you’re eating it warm out of the oven with spiced wine or toasted with cream cheese in the morning on your way to walk on the beach and see the first trees blossoming on the side of the road, I’d say it’s a worthwhile thing to have around.
Pain D’Epices
4 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
4 tsp. quatre épices (or 2 tsp. cinnamon and 1/2 tsp. each nutmeg, cloves, ginger and black pepper)
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 ounces butter
1 egg
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup orange marmalade or apricot jam
1 cup water
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Spray a loaf pan with nonstick spray.
Combine the butter, egg, honey and jam in a bowl until light and fluffy. Add the water and stir to combine. Sift in the dry ingredients and stir until just blended.
Transfer the batter to the pan and bake 1 hour. Cool in the pan for 10-15 minutes, then remove to a rack and finish cooling.
