I’ve always wanted to make madeleines because as a kid I was obsessed with the Madeline book series.
“In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines …”
Whenever I misbehaved, my parents loved to threaten to send me to boarding school but because of Madeline, I was actually like, Ok, send me to boarding school—it looks like fun!
In my brain, boarding school was a place where I’d get to hang out with my friends and study together and play lacrosse together and wear knee high socks.
I went to catholic school my whole life so I was used to nun. All the scary nun stories that older people loved to tell me never had an affect on me because all the sisters at my school were so nice; I was never hit with a ruler or told to stand in the corner.
Fun fact: Amelia was almost named Madeline. It was between the Amelia Bedelia books and the Madeline books.
I feel like Amelia is closer to Amelia Bedelia’s personality (read: a hot mess) than Madeline so I think it’s a good choice.
Everything bagels are my everything; hence the reason why I figured it’d be a slam dunk of an idea to put that everything topping on soft pretzels. It’s like one of those duh-this-will-taste-good-moments. I’m not sure I can properly express my excitement for this recipe because if you can’t sense it then I’m doing a v v bad job articulating how freaking excited I am!
Some people are sesame bagel people. Some people are asiago bagel people. But then…there are everything bagel people and that is where I fit in. My home belongs in between the poppy seeds and the onion flakes and the sesame. It’s a glorious place to be that makes your mouth smell terribly and there’s a good chance you’ll have dark seeds stuck in your teeth but whatever! Basically, everything bagels aren’t first date material. But they’re good life material.
Sometimes I come to write about a new recipe and I freeze. I’m not sure what to say or what to disclose or what to tell. Sometimes, a lot of the times, I want to tell you everything: my dreams, my drama, my stress, the parking ticket. But I don’t. I hold back most times. Mainly because I’m somewhat of a private person, I realize. I kind of want my struggles to be mine, I want to swallow them and hopefully make something out of them.
Sometimes I wonder if that’s a bad trait, or maybe it’s just a bad trait when you have a blog, which can often times become like another version of a reality television show. I’m not interested in that route.
I mean, it’s taken me years to tell my friends everything that’s going on in my life—it’s not easy. I find it easier to be the listener, the friend who nods and gives advice. I’m much better at that.
I think I’ve struggled with this the entire time I’ve had this blog. What is too much. How much should I share. Also, one thing I would never want to do is use my life with others, my relationships with them and just exploit that for likes, comments, attention. That would feel awful. Some things should be sacred and private and belong to people.