It’s cold and rainy here. You know what that means: It’s gingerbread season, motherfuckers.
Here’s another, which is labor-intensive but results in this fluffy spicy heavenly cake that my little sister used to beg me to make every Christmas.
It’s got all the yum but none of the “ya basic” judgement now shamefully associated with that most heavenly of things, pumpkin spice. Fuck everyone who hates on pumpkin spice, by the way. You can tear my overpriced calorically bloated latte from my cold dead mitten-clad hands, and the same goes for my Pumking beer. I’m sorry you hate joy and love.