One-pot Pantry Pasta | @thefauxmartha

I write about food. And dream about it too. Without saying it explicitly, I preach week in and out to make food from scratch. It’s better that way. But come 5:00 pm on a weeknight, I’m without a message to preach or an idea of what to make. Dinner’s hard. It’s even harder now that we have a tiny little person who needs to be in bed by the time we once started making it. Unlike the rest of our life, we kept dinner spontaneous because we could. Long-winded when we felt like it. It wasn’t a burden then. Read more

Moms' Lucky Black-Eyed Peas | @thefauxmartha

My mom’s from the south. My dad’s from the north. I grew up with both stuffing and cornbread dressing at holidays to appease the palettes of either pole. But come New Years Day, her southern menu was always on the table. My mom made pork, black-eyed peas, and broccoli casserole (in place of collard or turnip greens). This meal is said to bring health, luck, and prosperity. Maybe the lack of this meal has been your problem all these years? Kidding. I’m no poster child, but tradition keeps me making this menu, especially her black-eyed peas. Read more

Sweet Potato Taco Soup | The Fauxmartha

It’s that time of year when people gather in droves. Sweaters, Bing Crosby, bubbly drinks, and twinkly lights fill center stage. In the background, the haggard hostess dances around the kitchen for hours, prepping a meal for many—the ones she loves most. Near meal time, it’s inevitable. She questions the depth of her love due to the stress, sweat, and need for another shower.  Read more

Kitchen Sink Bark | The Fauxmartha

Dessert is an afterthought for us during winter. By afterthought I mean—we think about it once it’s too late to make anything. It’s never forgotten. We usually ditch our always-at-the-ready ice cream until the weather warms, unless Talenti is on sale. In that case, we just turn up the heat. Lately though, I’ve been filling my little ice cream bowl with granola and dark chocolate chunks just before bed. I know something’s good when Kev follows suit. (He’s been following suit).  Read more

Boozy Beef and Butternut Tacos | The Fauxmartha

It’s invisible internet friends baby shower day for Jessica of How Sweet It Is—the well loved lady who taught us all a thing or two about how to get creative in the kitchen. She has mad chops in the recipe department, a plethora of sprinkles up her sleeve, and a babe inside ready to partake in all this goodness. But not until we’re done celebrating. And there’s lots of celebrating yet to be done. Read more

Squash Kale Autumn Salad | The Fauxmartha

In his hurriedness to get off to work, I noticed Kev took the time to throw away my used coffee filter hanging off the side of the Chemex. Meanwhile, I sat at the dining room table, drinking the cup of coffee that filter had produced. It was a rare glimpse. I’m usually the one in the kitchen or on the floor corralling the babe. Thank you, I said. He said you’re welcome like it was no big deal, like he does it all the time. I often throw it away, he said. I paused, took another sip, and tried to remember the last time I threw it away. Thank you, I said again. Read more

Baked Apple Cider Donuts | The Fauxmartha

I like round food. Pizza, baked donuts, biscuits. I guess I should clarify, I like round food with flour. Wheat flour if possible. I’ve passed this trait on to Hal (along with my stubbornness). Couldn’t some of my better qualities seep through to her?  The good news—meal times are rarely, if ever, a fight, as long as I get food on the table fast enough. In that case, she’s exactly like her dad. Food. Now. You can see how this is a problem for someone who likes to make everything from scratch. Read more

Sweet Corn Arepas | The Fauxmartha

It’s been 1.5 months since we moved to the Twin Cities, and I feel like we’ve been here forever. I had a hunch during my short stint on the east coast that I might be a midwest girl at heart. It’s confirmed. This part of the country feels like home. Though if you asked me in high school where I belonged, it was NYC which was confirmed on a trip with my mom and best friend during my senior year. I wore all black because that’s what Jennifer Aniston was wearing on Friends. The only black shoes I owned outside of my soccer cleats were clogs, so I wore those too and came back with a sprained big toe needing a cortisone shot from walking so much. I should have known then we weren’t the best match. But there’s one big thing I’ve been madly missing from the east coast—food truck arepas.  Read more