No Mow Miracle Grass from The Faux Martha

Last summer, we went to Jackson Hole with family, and I fell in love with a grass. I also fell in love with this mint chip green smoothie. It was long and whispy, the grass, with that wind-blown, sideways Justin Bieber hair, so dense and lush, holding on to water like a dew-soaked spider web on a fall morning. It was unlike any grass I’d ever seen in real life. Though, I had a vague memory of reading about eco-friendly grasses in an old copy of Martha Stewart Living, bookmarked on an iPad we no longer had. It had to exist. I had the perfect spot for it. After an internet search, I found a miracle no mow grass, promised to be drought-tolerant and eco-friendly. Was it too good to be true? Read more

Vegan Mint Chip Ice Cream from The Faux Martha

I have a funny, sad story about how this Vegan Mint Chip Ice Cream came to be. It’s a story about Kev’s birthday this past year, when he asked for Frankie & Jo’s Ice Cream, a delicious gift that could be consumed, no long-term storage necessary. Kev fell in love with the plant-based creamery last fall while at a work conference in Seattle, when I tagged along and we ate pizza at Delancy’s (not vegan) and skipped a store-front over for a scoop of Frankie & Jo’s (vegan) afterward. It was love at first bite. Read more

Pinch of Yum Studio BEFORE

This summer I’ve been doing a lot of work offline. And I sorta love it, the cadence and pace and quietness of it all. I’ve carved out space to create and think, a space without double taps and stats and algorithms. I’ve jumped off the hamster wheel of hustle, too, a wheel I used to do a lot of spinning in. I don’t sorta love it. I love, love it. As someone who makes her living online, this makes for a muddy reality. Though, I think these two worlds can coexist with each other—online and offline—as long as I pay close attention to the ratios I give each of those spaces, as well as the places I go to get refueled. One of those offline spaces I’ve been working in this summer is the new Pinch of Yum Studio, helping to design the interior of their workspace. It’s a project that makes me feel my heart beat, a project that makes me feel alive. I’d love to share it with you.  Read more

Salsa Doña Tacodeli copycat recipe from The Faux Martha

When I hopped off the plane a couple weeks ago from Texas, I bought everything to recreate a cashew queso I fell in love with over lunch. I also bought everything to recreate Salsa Doña, a creamy jalapeño salsa from Tacodeli, that I fell in love with during another lunch. Between those lunches and recipe testing, I’m dubbing this the summer of salsa (and chips). Because I’ve eaten a lot of them.  Read more

Neutral Nordic Wallpaper from The Faux Martha

Wallpaper. Rugs. Wall art. Curtains. These are the things that make designing a space so debilitating, especially wallpaper. It’s more permanent than a nail hole. But a neutral Nordic wallpaper is neutral enough to allow your tastes to change over the years and playful enough to add some light-hearted personality and pattern to your space. I rounded up some of my favorite neutral Nordic wallpapers to make your wallpaper search a little lighter, two of which are in our mudroom (pictured) and dining roomRead more

Never have I ever been a night or morning person, run a marathon, or liked queso. Drippy cheese is not my thing despite growing up in Texas (home of the best Tex Mex and queso), despite growing up with a mom who made queso with Rotel tomatoes, despite marrying into a family that tops their tacos with white queso. After being away for two years, I flew to Texas twice in the span of two weeks, consuming a diet of chips and salsa like a bear before winter. Never have I ever liked queso until Austin, TX at Picnik over a bowl of creamy vegan queso and almond flour tortilla chips with my sister. That’s when it all changed. Read more

family style chicken gyro salad from the faux martha

Twice a year, on cue, I clumsily transition from winter to summer cooking and back again, as if I’ve never cooked through it all before. Fall and spring are such short blips, I count them out in the bulk of my mental meal planning, though I consume as many red ripe strawberries as a spring can produce. It’s June, and the amnesia of summer cooking is slowly wearing off. It’s that season where the majority of the meal can be eaten raw and served out of a single bowl to be passed around the table family style, like communion, like a bag of unnaturally yellow movie theater popcorn, like a tall bottle of opened red wine. It’s a holy time unless I forget to set the chicken aside from the Family Style Chicken Gyro Salad. Hallie, my tiny vegetarian, protests loudly. Maybe that, too, is holy. We say amen, cheers, and eat together outside on a 65°F evening. Read more

The first year we moved into our urban lot, I started a vegetable garden knowing next to nothing. “Don’t worry Kev, I’ve got this.” I planted in May, where the sun stuck to that sunny sliver running along the driveway, when the snowglobe promised to stop shaking, when the plant store was flooded with humans again. By June, the sun slid high into the sky and stayed there for the rest of the season, throwing complete shade at my small vegetable garden. Despite all odds, produce produced, and Hal learned that food comes from the dirt that summer. The next year, though, I packed up my expensive idea, splintered cedar, and trellis, leaving it on the curb for another optimist, hopefully an optimist with some sun in her garden. Read more

 
 
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