The second issue of Foodiecrush Magazine is alive and well. It’s filled with beautiful photography and stories from my favorite food bloggers around the web. This community is a crazy unique one. One I’m thankful to find myself in. Five years ago, had you asked me what I would be doing, food blogger would not have been mentioned. But sometimes life is so perfectly random—you land exactly where you’re supposed to. Smack in the middle between food, photography, stories, and design. Read more
We made it. Halfway across the country. With our loot and car attached. We said goodbye to our old home and hello to a new one. We unpacked globs of boxes, put together stupid amounts of Ikea furniture, and painted some of it too. High stress situations don’t always lead to the smartest decisions. Needless to say, I’m banned from painting furniture and reading Young House Love for awhile. They give me way too many ideas. Read more
Making margarita cupcakes turned into making more margarita cupcakes.
Which turned into an excess of limes and eggs lying around the kitchen. Read more
I should be packing. And organizing. And throwing out things I haven’t touched in the past four years since moving to Chicago. I shouldn’t be blogging and baking and coming up with new recipes. I shouldn’t be running to Trader Joe’s to pick up bags of ingredients. Or setting up my white boards in front of the window to wait for the light to turn just right. Read more
I’m fighting against the seasonal clock to make as many rhubarb infested treats as possible. The window is short. Too short. I nearly broke out in sweat on a cool 70° morning at the farmer’s market this week. Was I late? Where’s all the rhubarb? Oh, it was there alright. At the very last stand. Read more
I’m standing in a fog. The windows are translucent. I can’t see my next step. Although I know it’s infront of me based on experience. But if I quit moving forward, I’ll soon be paralyzed. With muscles atrophied from lack of use.
Fear. Decisions. Change. Deadlines. They can do that to you. Make you stop dead in your tracks. Whisper little lies of inadequacy. They’re like speed bumps. In the fog. Reminding you that the road is rough. And it’s far from perfect. Read more
Where there’s a will, there’s a way. And when your husband asks for that Catalina topped taco salad from his youth, you’ll find a way to make the dressing from scratch. Not because he asked. But because you’re anal and Kraft just wont do.
He might tell you to just go and buy the store bought stuff. And he might turn up his nose at your homemade stuff. But as soon as it hits his mouth, he’s happy, wholesome, and asking for seconds. Read more
The wedding madness has passed. And my little sister is now a married woman. My heart is crazy happy for her. The wedding was absolutely beautiful. And I am absolutely pooped (in the best possible way). In true fashion, we bit off more than we could chew. But we got it done. Read more
