Minimalism and Vegetarian Tacos | @thefauxmartha

They called me quirky growing up. Repeatedly. I just assumed they meant to say funny. Miss Sharp, my first grade teacher, reserved the last 10 minutes of class for me to do stand up. Everyday. I thought I was funny, but now I know she was probably just tired of standing up. I’ve never been good at delivering punch lines, and I can’t imagine I was any better at age 6. They meant what they said. Read more

Brussels Sprouts Roasted in a Peanut Harissa Sauce | @thefauxmartha

I’m not good at good-bye. Neither is Hal. She avoids it about as well as she avoids nap-time. Twenty minutes after our guests leave, she rhythmically ask where they are. Somehow she’s forgotten the awkward, prolonged good-bye or lack thereof. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I understand that phrase better now that we have an apple tree in our backyard. The poor kid never had a chance. Read more

Vegetarian Chipotle Bowls | @thefauxmartha

Come the weekend, we’re communal food people. I’ve talked about this same topic over these fajitas and this podcast recently. I like food speckled across the table as the centerpiece, mostly because it seems fitting. The table is our meeting place, our sustenance. I like the way passing bowls full of food gently nudges the start of a conversation. Can you pass the rice? And the beans? 
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Creamy Kalette Baked Pilaf | @thefauxmartha

Growing up in Texas, we learned about fall, winter, and spring from textbooks and encyclopedias. A feed full of changing leaves on Instagram wasn’t a thing then, and connecting to the internet was about like dialing the man on the moon. I always thought the spelling of seasons was a mistake. It’s season. My pen pals from other countries thought we traveled by horse. Come to find out, we lived in the same country and it wasn’t called Texas. I now joke that Texans have a hard time believing in climate change because the climate never changes. I’m kidding. Kinda. Read more

Honey Soy Roasted Chickpeas | @thefauxmartha

It started to show itself in the way I kept my hair. Or didn’t. In high school and college I washed, dried, and straightened my hair daily. It was a thing of beauty. Well kept. Perfectly in place. With no sign of unruly wave, even under all those thick, thick layers. It was a good representation of how I saw myself. Of how I saw the world. I was a straight-laced rule follower. My perspective looked a lot like the scenery of The Giver. Things were orderly. Things were black and white. So black and white. Read more

Balsamic Pasta | @thefauxmartha

I had this whole post written about marriage. About how easy it was before we were parents. So easy we high-fived ourselves. And about how hard it’s been since becoming parents. It was about how this Balsamic Pasta (with a salad on top) saved us. A recipe I recreated from a dish we ordered on a much needed date night a couple months ago. I deleted it. Because I got to the end and realized it wasn’t the pasta dish, though so good and quick. You need to make it. It was the ping pong table from Craigslist that saved us. 
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What's for Dinner | @thefauxmartha

The days of carefree summer dinners are coming to a very quick close. Meal planning is the only way I can put something other than pasta on the table every night. So if you’re anything like me, I’m planning ahead for the both of us. Here’s a couple back-to-school dinner ideas: quick and simple recipes, using summer-friendly produce. Each can be adapted for meat-eaters and vegetarians. Read more

Italian Summer Salad | @thefauxmartha

There was an Italian market right around the corner from where we lived in New Haven. They sold overpriced produce and served the best sandwiches and salads I’ve ever had. Prior to frequenting there, I’d never been extremely fond of ordering a sandwich or salad out, especially when given a choice. When in New Haven, you eat pizza. But this place and their pesto sandwiches and italian salads, they changed my mind forever. Read more