I recently took a bread baking class in New Orleans and left with all sorts of lessons learned (and bread smells in my hair and dough under my fingernails).
Hello sweet friends! I’ve been around Vermont this past week, exploring Burlington and teaching pie baking at King Arthur Flour.
These are my very favorite days of the year. The start of summer twinkles with magic. The sunshine, warm evenings, the birds that chirp well into the night. The possibility of beach escapes, and lake explorations. Heck, even the threat of a sunburn has its thrill. There’s so much possibility for adventure in these first few days of summer. I’m working hard on my Summer Bucket List (this was last year), and this year it’s fueled by inspiration from a recent trip to Aspen (glory-be Aspen) for the FOOD & WINE Classic.
Hello my friends! It’s Father’s Day and I take comfort in the fact that I finally figured out a gift that my dad needs and wants.
Eating chicken salad is just like trust falling into someone’s arms. For this comparison to work, we need to be on the same page about what a trust fall is. This is a trust fall, except you fall backwards, someone catches you, and you cry less (hopefully).
Some days are murky with pain. When battled politics smear together with hatred, fear, and the loss of innocent lives, it’s hard to navigate our feelings of confusion and grief… and do the dishes, fold the laundry, and drive through traffic in a car.
I become a super nester in the days before I leave for a long stint of travel. Suddenly my house is stocked unflinchingly with toilet paper, there’s no sign of running out of paper towels, there’s cat food for months, and all of the sheets are clean and laundry is away… man, it looks like I run a tight ship.
Summer water is different from other such seasonal beverages like Winter Water or Fall Water… or even Spring Water.
Order Envy, one of great perils of eating out. Did I order the right thing or is my friend’s Chicken Piccata going to come out of the kitchen and be like diamonds on a plate compared to my lump of halibut and peas?
We know all there is to know about whisks, right? They’re bulbous and handy, the don’t play well in the utensil drawer without getting squished to misshapen or tangling up with the can opener. They make whipped cream if we’re feeling strong-armed, sift flour if we’re feeling lazy, and make the heck out of some pancake batter on very fine Saturday mornings.
Hello my friends! Welcome to this, another fine Sunday with us blinking our eyes open and figuring out which socks to wear (I think the answer is none).
We really do have so much to celebrate! The sun is above us shining bright. The breeze is warm. The shade is ample and cooling, if not still filled with pesky mosquitos.
A short, Memorial Day edition of Let It Be Sunday because we should all be outside living it up and I’m obnoxious enough to still be celebrating my birthday in gorgeous Philadelphia, there are ribs in the oven calling my name and wine that isn’t going to drink itself.
I’m trying to think back to my 18th birthday. Was there a pinata? I hope so. I’ve never been one to have my life planned out year by year.
Sushi Burritos: an exercise in making my own dreams come true. Also within the category of being my own dream maker: making short ribs (really any ribs at all), making angel food cake (it as fluffy as dreams), and jelly-filled donuts.
Hey friends! Welcome to it! I hope this weekend finds you happy and well, having napped, cocktailed, or baconed at least once so far.
Do you want to know how ready I am for Summer? I bought a one piece, long-sleeve (yup) bathing suit like… 2 months ago.
This recipe started out with the most vegan of intentions. I scooped nutritional yeast from the bulk bins at the grocery store, feeling like… yea it looks and smells just like fish food… we could totally turn this into a creamy, cheese-ish bechamel-type sauce.
You know what you can do in New Orleans? You can walk down the street, walking a dog that is not yours, drinking a beer in a koozie, wearing purple pants, at sunset, like a civilized human being, amen.
I’ll find any excuse to treat myself. Actually, my whole system of self-adulting is based on an intricate balance of tasks and rewards to keep myself motivated and happy.