As Old Man Winter makes one last (fingers crossed) sweep across the US, let’s not forget all the warm breakfasts that have sustained us through the many grey days of winter. They’ll soon be replaced with lighter, chilled breakfasts that haven’t crossed our minds for months. In the flurry of baby and croissant excitement (is it bad those two events exist in the same sentence?), I nearly forgot to share one of those warm breakfasts—Banana Nut, sweetened with maple, Baked Oatmeal. I recently guest posted over at Turntable Kitchen while Kasey took a little maternity leave. I’m soaking up her new mom wisdom as much as I’m savoring the last of these warm breakfasts. Because before you know it, we’ll be complaining about the heat and sucking down homemade popsicles like there’s no tomorrow. Read more
I started writing a meaningful post about hard work vs. instant gratification. But let’s cut to the chase. Croissants are hard work. About as much work as writing this recipe. Which has taken me days and left me wordless. Instant gratification sounds awfully nice at the moment.
The breakfast palooza continues. Or maybe it’s come to its rightful end? I think we have enough weekend breakfast recipes to last us a good month. There’s no denying it. I truly love breakfast. But I’m particular. I like my waffles crispy. My crepes with golden webbing. My french toast with thick crusty bread. And my pancakes thin, light, and far from cakey. My mom says I’ve always been this way. Read more
For years, I’ve walked around with soggy french toast syndrome (SFTS). I thought it was me. I’m sure a good part of it was. But after I had my mother-in-law’s challah french toast and that italian style french toast from the cafe down the street, the light bulb went off. Read more
Sunday morning. It’s quiet and overcast. The perfect light for photographing. The Civil Wars are playing in the background from the speakers of my husband’s computer. Nothing fancy. Fresh flowers from the store sit on the messy table that still needs to be cleaned. Reminding us winter is just a season. The fog will soon lift. And the streets will bustle with activity and noise. But the quiet, that awkward, revealing sound I so often avoid, is majestic right now. Read more
Where do you find your worth? Last night thoughts of high school flooded my memory. With them came a slight pang in my stomach. I pictured my 16 year old self, wandering around, hoping someone would notice me. Really—hoping a cute boy would notice me. Awkwardness. Uncertainty. Ample mascara. And a spray of Gap’s perfume Dream. Those were not the days.