Owing to their place as one of the two vegetables my daughters will always eat gladly (the other is broccoli, if you’re curious), I tend to stock up on sweet potatoes. If I look hard enough I can generally find one or two kicking around in the depths of my refrigerator. At lunchtime today, I found a few and my first inclination was to roast them whole, split them open, and smother them with chimichurri and bacon, but I decided at the last minute that I need more texture and spice so I cut them up for their stint in the oven. read more »
After an October spent traveling, November has been delightfully calm. Around here, in this bright little house we’ve lived in since April, things are good. Coat hooks have been hung. Books sorted. For the first time in a long, long time, I feel like things are on track and steadily improving. I know all too well how quickly the whole holiday thing takes hold, so in these last couple of weeks before the hysteria sets in, Brian and I have been doing what we can to get everything (finally) in order.
Finding time in the kitchen has still been a challenge, with my time spent working or taking care of the girls instead. read more »
Sometimes seasonal food writing, here on the east coast especially, feels like a tour of the very homeliest food stuffs; and among the rutabagas, parsnips, jerusalem artichokes, celery roots, cabbages, and all the other misshapen, sun-starved vegetables that tide us over until the sun comes back for real, the black radish feels forgotten. read more »
The internet is full of big, amazing people. People whose cakes are frosted perfectly, people whose children don’t spill yogurt down the front of their shirt at lunch, people who stroll around the city and don’t even care that their suede shoes are getting ruined in the puddles because it’s not a big deal to buy another pair. We are not those people. There’s something in the air lately–real life, real blogging, real talk, real food. I like that. Especially because I don’t stand a chance of ever being one of those big, amazing types. Our life is messy, hopelessly real, and very far from perfect. read more »
The main way a windy New York day differs from days in other places I’ve lived is in the amount of debris blowing down the street. In Virginia a windy day might have meant some blowing leaves and a few papers, but here, the walls of buildings channel the wind into something powerful enough to really pull up all sorts of things from who knows where and I’ve seen large plastic sheets, advertising circulars, trashcans and their contents all tumbling down the street. I once saw a pair of couch cushions blow by our building like tumbleweeds. It can be a little frightening if you’re out in it, especially if you’re walking by a construction site (which is every other lot in our neighborhood), but looking out the window, it’s easy to imagine everything old is being blown away and you’re getting a fresh start. read more »
This is a strange week–we’ve been working as hard as ever, but there’s a lightness to things. Brian and I have been having fun after putting the girls to bed, drinking beers, typing away on our respective laptops, talking into the night, and making future plans. Even the baby’s recent decision to stop napping and our oldest coming home with a tiny fever haven’t dampened spirits in our drafty little apartment. Could it be the brighter days? The buds forming on the trees? The fluffy clouds hanging in the crisp February sky over the East River? Whatever it is, I’ll take it. read more »