E. Kosloski's introduction to emptiness is not suitable for children. It's dark and dives deep into abuse: substance abuse and physical abuse. It examines what normal is and isn't, and what it is to be human. In her essay "posturing," she says, "I am not a person, just a posture—rigid and afraid," (118).

It took me a while to figure out what I wanted to make for this book. I wanted to make something that I wasn't 100% comfortable with, something that I had to find a bit of courage to make.

Vegan desserts, especially the baked variety, make me incredibly nervous. I know what the substitutes should be for the ingredients, but I don't know them as well as I know eggs and butter. I can't always predict how they will react.

Making bread makes me nervous too.

I think it's because I've made it a few times with yeast that refused to rise, and I ended up having to throw it out each of those time.

"Sometimes Felix pounded his fists against my body as if he was kneading the air out of a stubborn ball of dough, but it made a thwack-thwack sound..." (soulless, 16). I definitely needed to make some kind of vegan bread. But what kind?

In the story "rinse wash repeat," we find out that E.'s grandparents are Polish.

I wanted to use a vegan chocolate too. The collection is so dark, and I wanted that darkness in the bread. Originally, I wanted to put some kind of liquor in the recipe because alcohol is a huge theme in the collection, but E. is 4 years sober now, so I wanted to keep the recipe alcohol-free to celebrate that.

I decided to make vegan babka rolls with a chocolate and date filling. I chose to make it in roll form, rather than a loaf, because E.'s collection is composed of a series of personal essays, rather than just being one large memoir. 

And I got to talk to her about it.

M: What was the hardest part of writing this collection?

E: Trying to figure out how many family secrets were too many to reveal to the public.

M: Were you more worried about what people would think or what your family would think?

E: My family. But also how my family would feel about how other people felt about my family.

M: How did you get past that?

E: I asked for a lot of feedback from my classmates in regards to how they perceived the characters and tried to build a story that was empathetic and unbiased. Although the bias was hard since they all wanted to know how I felt, since it was memoir. The critique I received most was that it wasn't personal enough and I didn't have enough of my own thoughts and feelings.

M: Is there an essay you struggled with more than others when it came to making it more personal?

E: "The House on Mountain Road" took a few extra drafts because I struggled to factor in my emotions as an observer of a horrific incident. I had trouble figuring out how to insert reflections of the impact it had on my life. And the essay "Posturing" was added because I needed to explain that I was no longer in active addiction and not a total fuck-up. And let the audience know that I was okay. I originally wanted to use a different essay called "The Destroyer Game," that I thought fully explained my sobriety and general apathy in an experimental and creative way, but the others in my workshop thought that it was too harsh and pessimistic for the book. Which I argued really encapsulated my early sobriety. Basically I felt that their need for more emotion really steered me in a direction that makes me dislike the book in retrospect.

M: Have you thought about going back and changing it, then sending it out?

E: My brother was angry about how he was portrayed in the book. I would not send it out because of that. I could rewrite the essays that feature him, or remove him, but I realized that at the present I am enjoying writing fiction more than memoir. It gives me more creative license to play with experimental concepts and forms. I don't want to write anything my family would refuse to read, if it was published on a larger scale.

M: That makes sense. What are you working on now?

E: I'm working on a novel about two sisters that live in Florida on the Gulf Coast. One disappears. I also have a semi sci-fi one in the works about people in the shitty suburbs of Baltimore with pointless super powers.

M: Those both sound amazing! I can't wait to read them. Okay. Last question— Are you still selling your book?

E: I decided to stop selling it online. An earlier incarnation of one of the essays, "Getting Out," was published online with Rum Punch Press. There is a link on my linked in page, and the book design can be viewed on my portfolio. (https://www.linkedin.com/in/veronicakosloski and vkosloski.myportfolio.com)

 

And now, on to the recipe!

 

Dough

-3 c  bread flour

-2 1/2 c  all purpose flour

-2 packets  instant yeast (about 4 tsp)

-1 1/2 c  almond-cashew creamy milk, slightly warm

-1/2 c  pure maple syrup

-5 tbsp  coconut oil

-4 tbsp  aquafaba (I used regular chickpeas, since I couldn't find any without salt)

-2 tsp  vanilla

1. Mix the yeast with the warm milk and let it sit for a minute.

2. Add the oil, maple syrup, aquafaba, and vanilla.

3. Mix in the flour slowly, to make sure the dough is smooth. It should be slightly tacky. You can add more flour or water to make sure it is.

4. Knead the dough for 10-12 minutes.

5. Coat the dough in coconut oil and cover the bowl it's in with plastic wrap. Lat it sit somewhere warm for an hour—it should be doubled in size.

Filling

-1 c  chopped dates

-1 c  hot water

-2 tbsp  pure maple syrup

-2 1/2 tbsp  cocoa powder

-1 tsp   ground cinnamon

-1 (10oz) bag  vegan semi-sweet mini chocolate chips (I used Enjoy Life)

1. Remove the seeds from the dates and soak them in the water for 30-45 minutes.

2. Put the dates, water, maple syrup, cocoa powder, and cinnamon in a food processor and blend it until smooth.

Assembly

1. Punch down the dough then divide it in two.

2. On a lightly floured surface, roll out half of the dough, leaving the other half in the plastic wrapped bowl. It should be a rectangle about 12 x 15.

3. Put half of the filling in the center of your dough and spread it out almost to the edges.

4. Sprinkle half of the bag of chocolate chips over the filling.

5. Staring from the short side, begin rolling the dough. Try to make it tight if you can.

6. Cut it into 12 individual rolls. It's easier to get them all uniform if you first cut the roll in half, then cut the two halves in half, and cut each of those in thirds.

7. Put the rolls in a prepared cake pan (I greased mine in more coconut oil), and cover with plastic wrap.

8. Let it sit for 15 minutes.

9. Remove the plastic wrap and bake the rolls at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes, then let them cool.

10. Repeat steps 2-9 on the second half of the dough with the remaining ingredients.

And that's it! All that's left is to enjoy!