It’s that time of year when people gather in droves. Sweaters, Bing Crosby, bubbly drinks, and twinkly lights fill center stage. In the background, the haggard hostess dances around the kitchen for hours, prepping a meal for many—the ones she loves most. Near meal time, it’s inevitable. She questions the depth of her love due to the stress, sweat, and need for another shower. 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
Fall has definitely settled in to Chicago. There’s a chill in the air. At least enough of one to make soup. I love soup. Wait, I should take that back. I love hearty chunky soups. Pureed soups are OK. But hearty chunky soups—they make my fall and winter go round.
We have a couple soups up our sleeve, but taco soup is one of our faves. Typically, because we have everything on hand to make it. It’s time you know—I’m not much of a meal planner. A couple posts ago, I told you that I love routine, which I do. But I also love organized spontaneity. Oxymoron, I know. Here’s how it works—I love routine, but I hate meal planning. It’s a little too planned for me. Make sense? I didn’t think so. But somehow it works for us. So, everyday I come home from work to scavenge the fridge and cupboards (such an old school term, but we don’t have a pantry) in hopes that an idea for dinner will pop into my head. Read more
