When my grandparents came to visit as a kid, they’d always sleep in my room. I wouldn’t let my mom take the sheets off after they left. Their smell. I wanted it to last, and the sheets seemed to hold it the longest. I’d cry when it no longer smelled like them but rather me. 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.
Savory. It tastes like a warm home. Like familiar people gathered around a large table. Like all is right with the world.
Savory. I repeated the word multiple times while eating this dish. I quickly became lost in the whispers of sage, thyme, and nutmeg—spices I usually reserve for Thanksgiving dinner. Prior to indulging, the aroma of roasted acorn squash poured out from the oven filling all 800 sq ft of our home with autumn goodness. I was smitten before it ever hit my mouth. Actually, I was smitten after seeing her pumpkin risotto. I knew I had to make it–only instead of pumpkin, using the acorn squash I had picked up from the farmers market earlier that day. Read more
Are you appled out yet? This makes for the fourth straight apple post. I think I’m close, if not ready, to move on to other food groups besides apple. But before the curtains close, I must give the apple crisp the spotlight it deserves. Read more
Apple Hand Pies. You hold ’em in your hand. No plate or utensil required. They’re stuffed with a cinnamon-y sweet apple compote. The dough is so flaky you’ll be sure to shed some crumbs (flaky is good). If you look at them close enough you’ll see a smile matching the reflection in the mirror. There’s adequate crust for every last bite. And a tinge of crunch from the coarse sugar on top. Oh, how I love apple hand pies. Read more
One of my most favorite fall activities is apple picking. It makes me feel like a kid again even though I never went apple picking as a kid. Maybe I like it because I’ve finally figured out what the heck the word peck means. Pick a peck of pickled peppers. Never understood that nursery rhyme. Until now. Makes me feel like a kid again. Read more
Last fall I froze a ton of fresh pumpkin, which is now sitting alongside the fresh cranberries I froze from the winter before. I have this tendency to think that I’m going to want seasonal produce year around. So I stock up like the overly zealous squirrels down the street. At the beginning of the month, I had 4 servings of pumpkin to use before I’d allow myself to buy more pumpkins. So I made pumpkin bread as soon as the summer temperatures dropped. And then [insert dramatic pause] I came across a recipe for pumpkin oreo tarts from Lauren’s Latest. Read more