Before I started my own blog, I would spend hours trawling and reading other people’s blogs but, sadly, rarely ever commented. I didn’t realise, back then, that comments are a blogger’s bread and [peanut] butter, and that the simple act of leaving a few words can be the difference between a crummy day and a day of smiles for the person behind the blog.
(As an aside, thank you so much to everyone who has, or might in future, comment here. You turn so many of my days into days of smiles.)
Even when I did started blogging, I was initially nervous about commenting on the blogs of people who awed me with their talent, popularity, and/or on-a-pedestal-awesomeness.
One such person was Amber, whose blog I chanced upon and loved for its stories of travel, food, and fun. At first, I couldn’t bring myself to comment. The lady was clearly so effervescent, so beautiful, so intelligent, and so passionate that the thought of little old me contacting her seemed laughable.
And yet something within me told me to write to Amber. It might’ve been her love of language and grammar, the juxtaposition of her metal music lovin’ with her baking prowess and veganism, or simply the fact that her gorgeous smile invited friendship rather than prohibiting it. Whatever it was that pushed me to get over my fears and contact Amber, I’m so grateful I did.
Almost immediately, we became bosom friends in the manner of Anne of Green Gables and Diana (though we both, I believe, prefer Laura Ingalls Wilder by a smidge), and have seen each other (albeit never in person) through various highs and lows. I sometimes get confused when I remember that we haven’t met in real life but, hand over heart, this lady means so much to me that even a proper squeezy hug at an airport arrival lounge couldn’t fully convey it*.
*We will get that squeezy hug one day, though.
Amber is currently writing her first cookbook after quitting her job in an incredible leap of faith, and I couldn’t be prouder.
One more thing. If I’d never contacted Amber that dark nervous night nearly two years ago, I never would have come across her recipe for raw honey-almond butter truffles. And, in turn, I wouldn’t have been able to share with you my version of her incredibly delicious, rich, dense, and not-ostensibly-but-tangibly scrumdiddlyumptious treat.
In other words, we’re all winners at this point.
Sunflower Coconut Honey Truffles
- 1/2 cup coconut flour
- 1/4 cup sunflower seed butter (interchangeable with any nut butter)
- 45ml raw honey (I used Manuka honey. Also, sub in maple or agave syrup if you don’t do honey.)
- 1 tb ground golden flaxseed
- 1 tb cocoa powder, for rolling
- 1/4c water, optional, as needed
- In a medium sized bowl, combine the coconut flour, sunflower seed butter, honey, and flaxseed in a medium bowl.
- Using a wooden or metal spoon, stir thoroughly to combine as best you can. As both my sunflower seed butter and honey were rather thick and solid, I had to add around 1/4 cup of water (slooooowly, as needed) until the mixture started to clump when pressed together in my hands. Be careful with the water, though, as you don’t want to overdo it and make the mixture taste insipid. Keep checking as you go, until the dough stays together when you press it together. If that makes sense…
- Roll the mixture into balls, the size of your choosing. I believe I got 15 out of my delicious dough.
- Pour your cocoa into a small bowl, then roll each truffle in the cocoa to coat. Store in the fridge or in your belly.
- At this point, I thought back to my no-bake cookie dough truffles which looked like raw meatballs and chuckled at how, in the wake of that fiasco, I managed to make delicious sweet treats that look like wombat droppings. I then forgot all scatological references as I gloried in the complex sunflower-seed-coconut-slightly-sweet-cocoa-tinged-rich-dense-amazingness of these truffles.