A couple months ago, Oh Nuts! sent me some jordan almonds and said create. I held on to them idealess for many weeks too long. Of course Easter eggs seemed like the obvious answer. Ombre? Everyone’s doing it. So I removed some of the color from the egg with a wet q-tip. The results were subpar. Speckled, speckled, speckled—I could hear them chanting in the background. With an extra toothbrush and some blue food coloring, they quickly became robin’s eggs. Read more
My apologies—I’m late on The Food Matters Project this week. But I had an important announcement to make. Since then, the cupcakes have been eaten. And the excitement has turned into fears. Fears of renting our place out. Fears of finding a job. Fears of failing. Fears of landing a good place to live. A place with a gas stove. With laundry. With character. And lots of light. The details are weighing on us. And trusting is hard. Trusting that we’re headed exactly where we’re supposed to go. But I’ll try. And I’ll try again tomorrow. And the next day. I think it’s the only option. Read more
Definition: Bitchin’ Sauce (nerb—noun + verb) is a bitchin’ (for lack of a better word) sauce sold at the San Diego farmers market. It comes in 3 varieties—original bitchin’ sauce, chipotle, and pesto. It’s both vegan and gluten-free. And the taste? It’s oh-em-gee out of this world! Almonds give the sauce its creamy base. While lemons provide a lovely kick at the end. Its only downfall—you can’t get it in Chicago. Hence my friend Amy’s question:
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Have you noticed? Chicken Pot Pie. Chicken Noodle Soup. Apple Pie. I’ve been on a comfort food frenzy. And biscuits have been tugging at my pant leg for weeks now. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was pregnant. Or homesick. I’m craving biscuits about as much as I’m craving some good ole family time. Living far away from home has its disadvantages—like living far away from home. The miles apart are long. And the days till Christmas vacation seem endless. I’m counting on these tender in the middle but crunchy on the outside comfort-filled biscuits to tide me over in the meantime. And maybe a Christmas cookie or two. Read more
I’m a dreamer. As I child, I dreamt I would play in the World Cup, like Mia Hamm. As a teenager, I dreamt I would drive around in a brand new VW Bug, with a fresh flower occupying its interior vase. As an adult, I dreamt I would be a baker. A baker who made a really good carrot cake. Read more
I was inspired to make mini chicken pot pies after seeing these lovely little things. It just so happened that I had some pie dough laying around. Go figure. And it just so happened that Sur la Table opened up down the street. They were selling mini pie pans. Go figure. Read more
Pie Crust. It’s your kryptonite. It’s your Achilles’ heel. It’s the painful thorn in your side.
You know what I’m talking about. We’ve all been there. After failed attempts at home, we shamefully head to the grocery store, pause to make sure no one’s looking, and hide a box of store bought pie crust in the cart. Hours later only to find out the filling we paid careful attention to isn’t quite as good when surrounded by this boxed stuff. Looking around the room, dessert plates are sprinkled with leftover crust, and it’s not because people were too full. Read more
I’m on an ice cream kick. Have you noticed? Third post of the summer. Sorry if it’s getting redundant, but dwelling in Chicago requires living up summer as much as possible. In a few short months winter will be here—for six loooonnngg months. Therefore, I must make and eat as much ice cream as possible. Forgive me hips. Read more
