I called my best friend at 9pm Friday evening on my way home from the airport. I wish I could say I was coming home from vacation, but I was picking up 20lbs of wild Copper River salmon that was so generously donated for our fundraiser dinner last weekend.
My oven currently smells like it's burning off oil that had dripped to the bottom at some point. I should clean it; it really does interrupt the beautiful waft that comes from a springy cake in the oven.
Per request, I am including a recipe for these broccoli balls I've been making for the kids. I love hearing that you guys actually make the things in this series and find it helpful.
More cauliflower! Oops. But I do love it and it didn't cross my mind we had cauliflower on here for the last post as I was thumbing through Laura's new book.
I don't always love cooking. I have my moments; usually when it's quiet or late at night, but some days I just have to get people nourished and it doesn't need to be beautiful.
So this started as a ripped page from Food&Wine. The piece was called All Well & Good, covering Sakara, the fancy plant-based meal delivery service popular in the Los Angeles area.
A friend brought me this loaf after I had Cleo, over a year ago now, and I still think about it. She was very much a fast food girl in a season of taking care of herself - in part by learning to cook and eat cleaner, so it felt even more special. A loaf made of mostly ground almonds, flaxmeal, eggs, a few other pantry staples and studded with bits of fresh herbs.
We started demo in our kitchen about a year and a half ago. Our house was built in the early 70's, and while it seemed there had been some updates made at some point in the late 80's / early 90's, the place as a whole had been pretty stagnant for a good 20 years when we moved in.
Our "vegetarian dinners" have a history of coming with some grilled chicken or sausage on the side. Hugh believes it keeps him full and the kids like it too so I go with it.
There have been no resolutions made in writing yet. I'm pretty used to things happening belated around here and hoping Hugh and I will get to our New Year accountability date sometime this month.
Here we go, friends. We're getting towards the end of the parties and big meals and peppermint chocolate goodies and traffic to and from the mall and whipping cream and exhausted looking delivery people.
Sissy girl, Years ago, I posted a letter to your brother here, as this place is my memory book of sorts.
I decided this was the year I would do all my Christmas shopping in November so that I could enjoy December and all the hustle bustle that it brings without having to worry about ticking all the boxes off of our list of names.
Your day may be filled with potatoes and pecans and cranberries but dinner tonight may not have crossed your mind.
Well that didn't turn out how I thought it would. I was so excited yesterday - hopeful - nostalgic and grateful that at one point in history women weren't considered important or intelligent enough to even vote (the mere thought of which makes me livid) and now one may be president!
We all come to the kitchen with a different level of experience. Maybe you grew up around the stove with your mom or you've taught yourself through trial and error and many Food Network episodes or you've stayed away completely because you're scared of failing.
I have an overflowing clipboard of recipes I've ripped out from magazines. You read that correctly, clipboard, probably not the right tool for the task but I love them.
The temperature, the air, the light. It seemed to literally happen overnight in Southern California. That very day I made a metallic tasting pumpkin loaf and actually bought myself a pair of ankle boots which is exciting considering 80% of my shoes are hand me downs from my sister, so, we see you October!
These are not necessarily the direction I see this site going but there is a time and place for everything and sometimes that's an excellent brownie.
I had a rough time the first two years of college. It was up and down and there were certainly parts I really liked, but I remember crying in my car asking my parents if I could quit and switch schools on more than one occasion.