You know how it is.
The butter. So stand-offish. So aloof. So still in the refrigerator when you need to cream it into the shortbread batter.
Meanwhile, these hazelnuts need a talking to. In an unrelated shelling and blanching incident I actually gave myself a couple of blisters cracking these.
I was using the really old nutcracker at the bottom of the shot. The other one was too powerful. Seriously! I used it a few times and either I pulverized the nut or the shell flew into the air like volcanic bombs.
I’d just like to commend these fabulous little bowls. They behaved themselves, were available to help, and inflicted no wounds.
A couple of them are from the Maturango Museum in Victorville. The rest are from our friend’s pottery studio, the place we visited last month. I didn’t want to put a photo of them online when I thought I was going to give them as gifts. Now that I’ve decided to be stingy and keep them to myself, you can look.
I love them. Bunches.
Tonight the butter and hazelnuts are in the corner on a time out.
That better not be giggling I hear from over there.