We keep talking about things that will happen when we move. Whilst the weeks are slipping from me, lost in a blur of meetings and telephone calls and spreadsheets, I feel like our lives are on hold.
I’m gradually un-stocking the kitchen and trying not to panic when I see the empty shelves. I wander from room to room, mentally making a list of what we are and aren’t going to have a place for in any new flat. I spent far more time than anyone should debating whether I should buy some more loo roll or if we have enough to last us until we move. There’s always that phrase ‘until we move’, ‘when we move’.
Which is slightly ridiculous as we’re unlikely to be moving any time before the start of the summer.
And then, there’s everything that I think is going to be different when we move. I will keep our new flat tidy – I won’t leave shoes scattered throughout the flat. I’ll make the bed every morning before I leave for work. We won’t ever get to the end of the week and discover that we’ve run out of clean underwear because we forgot to do the washing.
I have a picture in my head of what life is going to be like when we move. I know the reality is not going to be anything like that. Realistically, there are plenty of things that are never going to change about me and about our lives. We’re still going to spend our evenings, curled up on the same sofa together we are here, our same blue and white plates balanced on our knees. Moving house doesn’t make you any more of a different person than the start of a new year or getting a haircut does.
It’s liberating though, to think that maybe I can use the move as a catalyst for some smaller changes in my life. I like to make a lot of what we eat from scratch (within the confines of the practicalities our jobs and lives demand) but I’ve got lazy in the last couple of months, affected by the same ennui that makes me reluctant to do anything that doesn’t involve looking at floor plans online and trying to decide what colour curtains might work in our hypothetical new bedroom. When we move, I hope that we can get into some better habits. Starting, of course, with chocolate.
Cashew butter cups
Yield: 20 – 25 cups
I’m certainly not the only person to have made these or a variation of some nut-butter filled chocolate cup. Shanna posted some delicious looking peanut butter cups last year and I’m not sure I can stop thinking about these salted caramel peanut butter cups since I saw them before Christmas. Because cashew butter is quite rich and creamy, and because I was using a mix of milk and dark chocolate, I decided not to add any sugar to the filling which was definitely the right choice because they are the perfect balance as they are. I used a touch of coconut oil (which you can’t taste at all) to firm up the filling a little – I’m sure butter would also work if you prefer. They are difficult to stop eating but curiously satisfying.
- 140g (2/3 cup) cashew butter (you can make your own if you prefer)
- 1/2 tablespoon coconut oil
- 1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 200g (8oz) chocolate (I used a mix of milk and dark but you can use whatever you prefer)
In a small pan, melt together the cashew butter, coconut oil, vanilla and salt and stir with a wooden spoon until smooth. Set aside to cool to room temperature while you make the chocolate cups.
Set out 20 – 25 mini cupcake cases on a baking tray.
Melt the chocolate in a bowl over a pan of barely simmering water.
Using a teaspoon, coat the bottom and the sides of the cupcake cases all the way to the top (this should use about half your chocolate). Chill for 10 minutes or so until firm to the touch.
Add a generous teaspoon of the cashew butter to the cups and top with another teaspoon of chocolate, allowing it to spread to the edges of the cups. You might need to quickly warm the chocolate again if it starts to go a bit hard.
Chill the cups again until the chocolate is firm. I find these do better in the fridge because my cashew butter was fairly liquid.