Growing up in Texas, we learned about fall, winter, and spring from textbooks and encyclopedias. A feed full of changing leaves on Instagram wasn’t a thing then, and connecting to the internet was about like dialing the man on the moon. I always thought the spelling of seasons was a mistake. It’s season. My pen pals from other countries thought we traveled by horse. Come to find out, we lived in the same country and it wasn’t called Texas. I now joke that Texans have a hard time believing in climate change because the climate never changes. I’m kidding. Kinda. Read more
I’ll never forget my first married Thanksgiving. We were young and poor and far away from family. I was determined to make my first Thanksgiving entirely from scratch. I took the liberty to nix certain staples off the menu and add some new ones. I cleaned, brined, and cooked the turkey all by myself. I was proud, so proud, until Kev saw the final spread. Read more
I’ve been craving bad things. Things I gave up years ago and promised myself I wouldn’t eat again. Things that always leave me full of regret and craving nutrient-rich food. I’m hoping this is a short phase of pregnancy. Because Pizza Hut pan pizzas and massive amounts of ice cream must end. Though moderate amounts of ice cream are welcome. Very welcome. That’s one thing I’ll never give up. Read more
Promise me one thing this Thanksgiving—no cans of cranberry sauce. Deal? Let me return the favor by promising you—this is the easiest recipe. Evah! And people will actually eat it. You won’t miss the untouched cylindrical cranberry “sauce” fresh with indents from the can. I promise. Read more