This is a post about morning chasing the shadows away, about nightmares and milk tea flavored French toast. I’ve noticed a curious thing about myself in contrast to my husband. I wake up nervous, almost in a panic, nearly every morning. Many mornings the first words off my lips to him are a bleary “Is everything ok?” I need to hear that everything is okay. While he dreams of singing lullabies to our daughter the day she’s born, I thrash through drownings, fighting tooth & claw, and a writhing sort of pain in my heart that’s almost limb rending. I love to rest, to sleep, but waking each morning to this glorious and still yet new world of placid waters, mundane worries, and a husband that I love and loves me in return is more like a dream than any sleep I’ve known as an adult. Morning is sweet. He brings me coffee, we make breakfast or take it out, and the black water recedes again into my subconscious. Living is a good remedy. So here are my thoughts on the fear & a recipe for chasing it away, namely a recipe for an earl grey & lavender scented French toast topped with sweet summer blueberries.
It’s no great mystery as to why my sleep is disturbed. I amassed a decade of disturbing during my twenties, enough to fuel a lifetime of nightmares. I was a master of compartmentalizing, a common survival skill amongst the compulsively ill advised. Now I’m likely up to the same psychological tricks. But there are only two compartments: then and now. Then is in a shoebox on a dim, cobwebbed shelf. Now is out on my dresser, the first thing I see when I sit up in bed. But in some somnambulant state of self torture, I take then off the shelf and rifle through it’s contents. Maniacs are in there, and the maniacs tormenting me, if dream interpreters are to be believed, are all—no matter the face—myself.
My husband doesn’t seem to have this fear. I’m sure he has a fair human amount of fear; we all do. But not this dark mass I carry around. It makes sense that he doesn’t. The bags I carry, the skeletons—whatever cliché you want to assign to my distasteful (to put it lightly) memories and experience—he simply doesn’t have them or at the very least not the sheer volume or degree. I’m tempted to fall into a narrative of seeing myself as the “dark one”. I laugh less & worry more than he does, it’s true. I’m less friendly, less optimistic. Not to say I’m not those things, I’m a reasonable amount in my estimation. I just don’t possess that same effervescence & light. I’m an introverted, internal sort.
Over the past few days, I’ve made a little down time since we returned home from 5 weeks abroad, and in that time I’ve found stillness. Stillness leads to thought. And my thoughts have turned to wondering whether my daughter will grow up and see us the way I see us. Whether she’ll see him as the light one and me as the dark one. Whether she’ll see sadness and fear in me. Or whether she’ll see me like he sees me, introverted & sensitive, but not dark. My hope is the latter. And my hope is that the rays of the morning, of our family & the daily moments we share from breakfasts to afternoon swims, of good work & real friends will, over a lifetime, chase away those shadows, and that I will consistently see myself the way the people who love me see me: as different but not worse.
Without further introspective rambling, here’s a recipe to beautify your waking world: thick brioche French toast infused with earl grey and topped with the sapphire jewels of the season, plump blueberries tossed in a homemade lavender sugar & lemon zest. Add a cloud of powdered sugar and syrup if you must (I skip the latter, personally) and you have a meal that will make you smile no matter what the night brought.
Reminiscent of milk tea & the perfect twist on a classic brunch food, this sweet and fluffy french toast is infused with bergomot scented Earl Grey tea & lavender buds. You can either bake it in the oven (this alternate method is provided in the instructions below) if serving a crowd (double the recipe if baking but you can also triple or quadruple as needed!) or cook it the traditional way, fried up in a skillet for one or two. Serve hot, topped with blueberries, and with a glass of milk.
Ingredients
- 100 grams (1/2 cup sugar)
- 1 teaspoon lavender
- 1 teaspoon Earl Grey tea leaves
- 1/2 loaf day old Challah cut into 4 slices, 1" thick
- 180 grams (3/4 cups) whole milk
- 60 g (1/4 cup) heavy cream
- 2 Earl Grey tea bags (or 2 teaspoons loose leaves)
- 2 large eggs
- 50 grams (1/4 cup) lavender + earl grey sugar & extra for sprinkling
- 30 grams (1/4 cup) flour, sifted
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- unsalted butter for frying or for greasing the pan if baking
- blue berries tossed with lavender earl grey sugar for topping
- lemon for zesting over the toast
- lightly sweetened whipped cream, optional
Instructions
- In a mini food processor grind the sugar, tea, and lavender until combined. It will be very fine, almost like powdered sugar, and no large chunks of lavender buds or tea leaves should remain. Divide into 50 grams to use for the french toast batter and set aside the rest for tossing the blueberries and dusting the toast.
- In a saucepan over medium high heat bring the milk and cream to simmer. Remove from heat, add the tea bags, steep for 15 minutes, and then remove the tea bags or strain if using loose leaf tea.
- Transfer the milk tea to a mixing bowl and whisk in the 2 eggs, 1/4 cup lavender + earl grey sugar, flour, and vanilla until smooth and completely combined.
- Toss the blueberries with some of the set aside lavender + earl grey sugar to just coat.
- Melt 1 tablespoon of butter for every two slices you're frying in a skillet large enough to fit them without crowding over medium high heat. Dip each slice of bread into the batter to thoroughly coat and immediately fry about 3 minutes per side until golden brown being careful not to burn it. Serve hot, dust lightly with more of the lavender sugar, top with sugared blueberries, and zest a bit of lemon over the top. A dollop of lightly whipped cream is optional, though delicious.
- Alternate Oven Baked Method: Double all ingredients in the recipe.
- Heat oven to 350°F before proceeding with recipe.and butter a baking pan that will snugly fit the 8 slices of toast layered over one another. Proceed as above.
- Dunk all of the toast in the batter and arrange in the baking pan. Pour excess batter over toast. Allow to soak for at least one hour and up to overnight in the fridge. Bake at 350°F for 30 minutes or until puffed and golden brown. Serve as above.
Notes
If not using stale bread, I recommend lightly toasting the slices before dunking them to dry them out a bit.
Sounds delicious ! Can’t wait to try !
Agreed! Looks scrumptious. And what a dreamy kitchen to work in. Much be inspiring to cook there! Not that it would help me much.
There’s nothing bad being “dark” and I think your daughter will be so balanced, taking the light and the dark from her parents, knowing the pro and the cons of each characteristic and learning how beautiful they both are <3
I was so dark once, but then I found my mate who "healed" me, but I then realized that he's so much darker then me and now I'm the light one! I always tell him to be optimistic, that anyway our life will be awesome – because I really believe that – and so on. I honestly think that a yin-yang couple works so much better than a completely light one ^_^
Those sugared blueberries look incredible!
Kari
http://www.sweetteasweetie.com
I’ve been wondering if there is anyone else in this world who struggles with the same things as I. My husband is the fun/optimistic one and I’m the “dark” worrier that prefers to be alone in the quiet. my children have opened me up and taught me so much. I believe the same will happen to you. I don’t know your story, but it’s yours for a reason and it’s made you who you are supposed to be for your little one. she needs the balance you and your husband will provide. neither is better than the other. the fact that you are aware of your differences will allow you to grow and blossom into an amazing mother. I let fear rule the first couple years of our first child’s life and I have to say it’s one of my only regrets. I’m so much better with our 3rd but it’s something you learn as you go. release the pressure now, embrace who you are and get ready for your heart to double in size. thank you for opening up…it helps us other women struggling with the same thing, not feel alone.
Beth:
Not sure how old you are, but thankfully, dreams evolve as we age (I’m 42)! I’ve been chasing away evil twin dreams since I was a teenager. I’m an identical twin and it’s always been my poor sister (who I love in real life) who is the evil one; perhaps my latent envy for the path her life has taken that is different than my own. Just this week the pattern changed–now it’s me who is the dominate one. I’m sure as the tethers of history loosen even more as I get older, that eventually she and I will be walking side by side in these series.
May you encounter the same evolving story that cherishes your past and forges a forgiving visual for you at night.
I can’t really believe you are ‘the dark’ one. I still see you talking like the dutch (!?) flight attend on the plane on snapchat 😉
I stumbled across your blog from a tumblr post. Oh the darkness don’t we all have that aspect of ourselves. We must be balanced so of course we have both. You are going to be a wonderful mum and I felt in my last trimester very bothered by many things. Not taking shit from anyone was my motto. It still is because after you have a human being you change in a way that nobody expresses to you. It’s different and you are adapting to that new sense of being. It can be magical and torturous 🙂 mostly magical. I am going to try this recipe with a girlfriend we (myself and son) have breakfast with a few times a week. It sounds delightful and your photography is beautiful!
I think that we can fall into the duality trap with siblings and partners – if they’re the mathematical one, I’m the humanities one, if they’re messy, I’m neat, if they’re light, I’m dark. I think it’s us doing it to ourselves for self-definition far more than it’s how everyone else views the duo, but I think the danger is that then we wrap our self-identity around that half of the duality. These days I’m just trying to let myself see both people on a continuum, and in doing so avoid boxing myself into a negative flipside to someone else’s traits that I then self-fulfil in a spiralling way. And it took me a long time, but I think I also try and do the same for many other partnerships, particularly my own parents.
dear Sweet Beth…..I’ve been following you for a long time (way before Matthew) and I love each and every post (and photo.)
You are incredible and so talented and very insightful!
I am the mom of 3 grown children and the happy wife of 48 years to my high school
sweetheart. I feel the love and excitement you have for your wonderful husband and bebe
girl must be overwhelming. It’s huge huge and you will embrace it all. I wish you dreams made of clouds and sunshine and baby cries in the night. I wish all the best for your beautiful family and look forward to following you on your travels!!!!!
I, too, had awful pregnancy dreams. It’s a cruel twist, to be so vulnerable and so haunted. Wishing you continuing peace in your days, Beth.
While I was pregnant, sleep was a bliss! I slept like a log, really, no dreams that I could consiously recall the next morning, no fears, no thoughts, nothing. Just deep sleep. The waking hours were the hard ones, when I was home alone, with only my thoughts for company, with my demons and my ghosts haunting me. I questioned everything about myself, and questioned how I would raise this child. I felt he was safe inside me, but once he came out, how could I protect him from me? From the bad in me? From my demons, from my damaged self? I’m still wondering how to do it, still threading carefully trying not to have him be damaged as I have been damaged, trying not to do to him what was done unto me. But I love my darkness, I love the fact that I am an introvert who is a realist – I call myself a realist, the world says I’m a pessimist – who does not always see a silver lining or rainbows. I like the fact that I can deal with the bad in life, I don’t like the fact that I can’t deal with the good. But I have learned to embrace my darkness, my dark side and use it to my benefit. You should, too. There’s a whole world of love inside you, so much love, this child will surely make you feel lighter, and you will shower her with love. I can only say that everytime I read your posts I sense this huge amount of love inside you wanting to get out, but sometimes it sounds like you don’t know how to channel that love, or how to “throw it around” if I can say that. Don’t take me wrong, I think this is such a blessing, that you’re such a loving person, that you feel so much, and love so deeply it may even scare you, I believe it is a blessing, but it is people like you the ones who most question the good inside them – because they have so much of it! As for french toast, not my thing, but the photography, as always, is to die for!!
https://bloglairdutemps.blogspot.pt/
To feel dark is not the same as been dark. You have enough light in you to illuminate your little girl path and when she will be there your worries will change leaving space to a new view of them and life will flow easily
This french toast looks like absolute perfection! Your photos are as stunning as ever and this flavor combination sound to-die-for!
in my opinion, you seem like the light of twilight~ a lovely mix + balance… the kind of light people stop to admire it’s rare beauty.
(i want to deeply thank you for inspiring my life in profound ways.)
I know exactly what you’re talking about. I have nightmares, really bad nightmares, that make me feel like when I wake up, it will be in an alternate reality where the nightmares are true. I have to bring myself back around, snuggle next to the husband, the baby, anything that will help me know that the past is not going to become my present or my future.
I love the recipe that you posted, I’m sure that the hus would too!
Also, I miss being pregnant, but when I was as pregnant as you are now, I did not want to cook. I wanted to pretty much do nothing, my ankles and wrists were way swollen.
Thank you for the post!
Krysten
I have awaken with early morning anxiety for a very long time. The psyche holds our Pandora’s Box of memories and experiences ..actual, cellular and imaginary. As soon as I am coherent, I bring myself to the present. All is fine Right Now. We all have elements of light and dark, and it makes us what we are. Your precious baby will be so lucky to have you. What a wonderful life she will have. Your post this day is exceptional.
You make your weakness an alluring asset in the real world. Being able to get past the blackwaters and do such lyrical things in life makes you a defiant hero. Love what you do with your life.
And I wish you a very happy and enthusiastic motherhood !
Sometimes I have to just go back and read your old posts like this one. Beth, I don’t think I’ve ever resonated as deeply with words and musings as I do with yours. I feel a growing warmth spread through me as I savour each paragraph. I, too, see myself as the “dark one” in my marriage. To others, I am calm and gently smiling on the outside, but my husband knows what lies dormant under each pleasant exchange — a chaotic and brooding inner world. Always looking in, in, in. Not that I’m not happy, I’m just a whole lot of things all at once. My man is like your Matt, loving me and showering me with sunshine in spite of my darkness… in other words, a mystery to me. Thank goodness for cheery husbands, the light halves to our shadowed moons <3
p.s. I love reading your posts on motherhood — my strange and turbulent personality has made me nervous about one day having children. You seem to be loving motherhood, and that gives me a lot of hope.