Permission to Dream of Spring
source: Smithsonian open access
There are still plenty of reasons to lean into cozy bakes in the coming weeks—warm ovens, butter-forward recipes, slow afternoons in the kitchen. And yet, here in Virginia, there’s no sign of the snow melting any time soon. Winter is very much holding her ground.
Still, before I go to sleep each night, my mind drifts somewhere softer.
I think about my garden.
I imagine baby’s breath swaying gently, bachelor buttons popping up in their cheerful blues, and plenty of zinnias—because you can never have too many. I’m especially excited to welcome my roses back from their deep winter rest, trusting that they’re quietly gathering strength beneath the soil. I already know my future self will be grateful that I took a random December afternoon to plant crocuses and tulips near the patio—tiny acts of faith that promise something beautiful later on.
I daydream about early spring vegetables too. Peppery radishes, baby spinach—those first harvests that feel like a reset after months of heavier meals and darker days.
In these winter months, I find myself flipping through a couple of books again and again: Floret Farm’s by Erin Benzakein and Flowers of Provence by Jamie Beck. They’re gentle reminders that color, growth, and beauty are inevitable—even if they feel far away right now.
And while I’m dreaming of brightness, I’m still baking for coziness. Recipes rooted in warmth but welcome any time of year. Canelés, in particular, feel right no matter the season—deeply caramelized, custardy, and just as fitting with a wool sweater as they are with sunlight streaming through the kitchen window.
So yes, stay cozy. Bake something comforting. But also—give yourself permission to dream of spring. It’s coming. 🌱
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