Firefly: Shepherd Book's Rosemary Biscuits

It's November. Grab a sickly sweet pumpkin-spiced latte. Wrap yourself up in your Batman snuggie. Warm up a buttery biscuit, schmear that shit with butter, and stuff it right in the ol' pie hole.

Wait, November already? What the hell happened to October?

Usually, I really get into the Halloween spirit and inundate you with a gaggle of spooky baked goods.This year, however, November snuck up on us way too quickly. One day, I'm trotting along through the grocery store, buying bagfuls of those little mellowcreme pumpkins and then BAM - CANDY CANES OUT OF NO WHERE.

But there is a flip side to this whole thing. There may not have been any orange and black goodies on the blog, but we did spend October doing what we do best: baking for a group of charities and special events that make Vancouver really fantastic. In fact, we dropped off more donations in the last month and a half than ever before. We'll get back to those warm buttery biscuits later (I promise you), but, for now, I want to share with you want we baked up last month:

Game of Thrones: Honeycakes

Do you . . . do you want to talk about what happened?

I mean, it might feel better to get it all out.

Captain Carrot's Dwarven Carrot Cake Scones

Sir Terry Pratchett is 65 today. I bet you he enjoyed a small party with friends and family, full of laughter, smiles, and cake. If you don't know Terry, you should. Maybe you've seen him hanging around your favourite Neil Gaiman novel.  Or maybe you've come across his surname taking up at least three shelves in the fantasy aisle of your favourite book store. The man has a goddamn ancient sea turtle named after him, for god's sake.

All I'm saying is, if you haven't read Pratchett, then you really really should.

Cinnamon Swirl Quick Bread

A lot of people say I'm lucky to be a teacher. "You get three months off during the year!" they tell me. I usually scoff. Three months off? When exactly would that be? I start work on August 15th. End work June 30th. That "time off" in between is used for some much needed reorganization, reworking, and replanning. You don't expect me to just teach the same thing in the same way every year, do you? New kids means new problems, new disabilities, and new ways of thinking. I need the summer to catch up.

Quick Cinnamon Rolls

I woke up. Went to work. Got a headache. Went to the gym. Deadlifted. Ate some soup.

That was my Valentine's Day.

Spelt Quick Bread

The Super Bowl mystifies me. It's constantly the most watched American television program in the world (which, I guess I understand, considering the other sort of television that's on the air). But why? Are there really that many football fans out there? I doubt it. I would bet good money that almost half of the people watching the game today hasn't even watched a regular season game this year. I bet you more than half couldn't name you more than five players on each team.

Cake Doughnuts

There are two types of doughnuts. Well, I'm sure there are more than two types. But I like to be dramatic. Anyway, were was I? Oh yes. Doughnuts.

Bacon Jam and Buttermilk Biscuits

I've been seeing a lot of dazed people at my gym lately, walking around aimlessly. I assume these are those fabled New Years Resolutioners who are getting their buns in gear this month. You know, the "I promise to get my 30 minutes of excise a day" or "I'm going to eat healthy" people. I have mixed feelings about these poor souls: It's wonderful that they want to make a change in their lives. But I'm not sure they're going about it the right way.

Virginia Ginger Peach Bread (and our summer vacation)

This July, Mr. C and I went on a pretty big adventure. We started at America's capital city, dragged our butts through colonial country, hit up the Carolina coast, then dug in to some real southern hospitality.

Oh, and we got hitched. More about that later.

One-Handed Chilli-Cheese Buttermilk Biscuits

I've broken a lot of bones. Luckily, they've always been pretty useless bones anyway - a pinkie toe here or there, maybe a couple fingers. That sort of thing. Now I find myself without the use of my hand - my right hand more specifically. My whole forearm is covered by a giant, bulky fiberglass cast. The tops of my fingers are poking out here and there, like sad little cocktail weenies. People look at this horribly freakish appendage and give me the "God, I hope you're left handed" look. Unfortunately, I'm not.

When it comes to broken bones, I take a few hours to feel sorry for myself. Quickly, however, that pity is replaced by an overwhelming feeling of stubbornness. If I break my collar bone, I will insist that I am still able to lift very heavy objects over my head. If my ankle twists, I will try and go out for my daily run. If go blind and catch the plague, I will still try to convince Mr. C that I can still go to work. It's just my nature. Now, with a broken right hand, even I have to admit that I'm pretty useless - even opening jars, unbuttoning buttons, and putting toothpaste on my toothbrush requires the aid of Mr. C.

But that doesn't mean I'll stop baking:

Break My (Dark Chocolate Bread) Heart

I'm so glad Valentine's Day is over. I'm pretty sure my retinas have been permanently damaged by all the pinks and reds floating around the blogosphere. Come on, people. It's time to hide all those little chalk conversation hearts and move on.

Or not.

This month's Dessert Wars called on us to create a delectable dish that featured both dark chocolate and . . . hearts. This means I'd have to journey back to the land of Valentines to get the job done. Cupid thrust an arrow into my chest and gave it a few twists. No matter how painful it was, I'd have to swallow my pride and make something romantic, passionate, and utterly amorous.

Or not.