I’ve been a voracious reader all of my life—books figure prominently in some of my early memories. I remember sitting outside the childhood bedroom I shared with my little sister after she’d gone to bed, my feet planted firmly on the uneven red-painted floorboards of the hallway, my back against the wall, intently reading as many pages as I could of James and the Giant Peach before my mom would gently nudge me into my room and ask me to close the book. Or lying on my stomach on the brick hearth in our living room in winter during some holiday gathering, curled up as close to the black mesh grate and flickering flames of the fire as I could comfortably stand, reading The Hobbit as adults wandered in and out of the room—chatting and drinking and carousing—while I turned the pages, rapt with attention and oblivious to the world around me, deep in some other land.
Read moreHOMEMADE CHEEZ-ITS
For all of us (especially lately), I imagine our internet searches are likely not at all indicative of our internal lives: despondencies, woes, triumphs, loves, and so on. But for the humor factor alone, Google history is probably as entertaining and telling as sneaking a glance at someone’s grocery list sitting in the bottom of their cart as they bump up against you in the produce aisle. (You know immediately if they’re a cook; if they have kids; if they’re baking a birthday cake; if they’re single or dating; and if they’re terribly stressed, you’d know that too, if you can barely make out the words squash apples Shredded Wheat yogurt milk spinach written on
Read moreOATMEAL BREAD + A PERFECT PB&J
The school I attended through third grade was right next to a shopping center with a supermarket and a scattering of generic suburban stores: a Jo-Ann’s Fabrics and a dry cleaners and a bagel spot. We often stopped there for groceries after the 3 PM school dismissal. Other details from that age are hazy, but I can recall the layout of the store in precise and specific detail, right down to the orientation of the checkout counters and the location of the tin of bacon bits in the salad bar.
Read moreZUCCHINI AND CARAMELIZED ONION PIZZA
Pizza. What a pleasure, right? Discussing something so fundamentally good seems like the right way to start the week. Bonus points are awarded for also being incredibly practical, if you’re faced with the (sometimes Sisyphean) task of getting dinner on the table night after night.
My mom makes pizza almost daily now, as she’s suddenly been thrust back into the business of feeding a slew of small hungry mouths nightly, something she hasn’t regularly done since the four of us were very young. (How’s that for reverse time travel?) And pizza—as she has discovered—is a big-batch workhouse of a meal.
Read moreSWEET CORN BUNDT CAKE WITH SALTY BROWN BUTTER GLAZE
Careful observation of the world yields all sorts of wonder. In the past three days alone I’ve seen three lion’s mane jellyfish, one brilliant orange-colored bird the size of a swallow, and four blossoming trees with pink flowers the size of tea saucers.
The jellyfish are a prized—yet dreaded—sighting. Discovering their crimson bodies pulsating as they bob near the surface of the water, the long translucent strands of their tentacles trailing behind them, means no swimming for a bit. They look deceptively beautiful considering the damage they can inflict.
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