This same time, years previous: street food, this, too, shall pass, a glimpse, when I sat down, Kate’s enchiladas, naps and mowers, quirky, and old-fashioned vanilla ice cream.

I about chucked the lastest Bon Appetit. The first recipe I made—the cover one, no less—was impressively underwhelming (though I did appreciate the holes-in-top-crust method), and the second recipe—a Burmese Coconut Cake—was nothing short of horrific.

The cake called for semolina and coconut milk, and I was all like, Oh yum, this looks unique and potentially delicious so yay. Turned out, it tasted like a piece of beach that someone dropped a coconut on: grayish-brown, sandy-wet, and one hundred percent inedible. The dogs loved it.

I tiptoed into the third recipe with a fair bit of trepidation. Cooked, chopped spinach, green onions, mint, sour cream, hm. It sounded perfect but trust had been broken. I wasn’t sure the magazine had any integrity left.

I’m pleased to report, the dip was fine. Redemptive, even (because it kept me from giving up on the magazine all together). It kind of reminded me of that artichoke dip that shows up at all female gatherings—you know, the one that’s served warm and bubbling under a crunchy cap of buttery bread crumbs?—because women are fools for tangy, creamy, rich. This dip is all those things, but plus mint and minus the artichokes, heat, and crumbs. Perfect for summer.

PS. No one in my immediate family liked it, but all your girlfriends will. Promise.

Spinach Dip
Adapted from the June 2014 issue of Bon Appetit.

I didn’t measure my spinach. I just picked a bowlful from the garden and called it Good Enough.

4 cups fresh spinach, packed (or 6 cups not packed)
1 green onion, thinly sliced
3/4 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint
salt and black pepper
pita chips or crackers, for serving

Boil a pot of salted water. Dump in the spinach and cook for 30 seconds. Remove spinach and plunge into cold water to stop the cooking. Drain well, pressing on the spinach to release all the liquid. Chop the spinach.

Combine the spinach, onion, sour cream, and mint. Season well with the S&P. Let rest for a bit to blend flavors. Serve with pita chips or crackers.

This same time, years previous: the business of belonging, stuff, garbled, Greek cucumber and tomato salad, sourdough waffles, microwave flower press, freezing strawberries, strawberry shortcake, and brown butter noodles with ham and buttered peas.

A couple weeks ago, I developed a deep and abiding craving for chocolate. Not candy chocolate, but a homemade chocolate confection. Preferably cake.

I sat with the craving for awhile, mulling it over, pondering the pros and cons of each idea that flitted across my mental dashboard. And then Joe Pastry wrote about a mud cake, and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that mud cake was The Answer.

So I made it and it was.

The end.

Mud Cake
Adapted from Joe Pastry’s blog.

1 cup butter
1 cup (8 ounces) semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup flour
2 teaspoons instant coffee granules (or espresso powder)
½ cup cocoa powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
2 cups sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 eggs, beaten
½ cup sour milk (or buttermilk)

Melt the chocolate and butter together in the microwave, stirring every 30 seconds or so. (Do not over heat or the chocolate will scorch.) Stir till smooth and creamy.

In a large mixing bowl, stir together the flour, coffee granules, cocoa, soda, sugar, and salt. Add the eggs and milk and whisk to combine. Stir in the melted chocolate—do not over-mix.

Pour the batter into a 9-inch springform pan that has been greased and lined with parchment and then greased again. Bake the cake at 325 degrees for an hour and twenty minutes, maybe a bit less. My cake puffed up high at first, and then it sank around the hour and ten minute mark. I think I took it out at about 1 1/4 hours since I wanted it to be damp, not dry.

Cool completely before removing from the pan. I ate it plain, mostly, but it’d be fab with coffee ice cream or whipped cream and berries.

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (6.10.13), the books we took, the quotidian (6.11.12), sheet shortcake, white chocolate and dried cherry scones, and stirring the pot (on homeschooling).