My energy level is flickering on and off like a light switch in a thunderstorm. I’m good! I’m getting up! I’m…no. I’m on the couch again, my eyelids heavy and threatening to close. On Monday, I had sinus surgery (nothing scary! not gruesome! as routine as such things can be), so my body is in full recovery mode.
Read moreBUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP WITH MISO AND COCONUT MILK
I've written about this soup before, but it merits revisiting. Each time I cook it, I find myself on the phone with my mother, or my sister, or a friend, vehemently explaining how good it is, as if they have nothing better to do than drop everything and make soup.
But if they did, and if you do, I promise you'll thank me.
Read moreSWEET POTATO ROLLS
There's a mug of tea steaming on the windowsill to my left. It’s quiet in my apartment but cheerful noises from the street outside drift up through my open window on the warm breeze. Children shout from the school next door. A delivery truck rumbles past, then another. A far-away siren, the thump of trash cans hauled to the sidewalk, a girl giggling as she waits in the long line outside the bakery downstairs.
Read moreMUSHROOM & KALE FRITTATA
Last night: New York City. At a bar in Tribeca, I drink two prickly pear margaritas in quick succession; the alcohol heightens my senses. I need food, and I step outside into the night to hail a cab.
Heading uptown: The streets rush past in a blur of neon lights. In mere minutes I speed past dozens of neighborhoods, hundreds of apartments, thousands of people.
Read moreWHISKEY SALTED CARAMEL CINNAMON ROLLS
The weather lately feels like a moody teenager, swinging wildly between seasons: a hot, sunny morning one day then a raging rain storm lashing at my windows the next.
In Vermont last week, the air was crisp and cool to match the fall foliage. I drove home by way of the Hudson Valley, spending a few days with friends. I needed a wool hat to counter the chill; we spent the evenings outside in the hot tub, steam rising in the cold air, or camped out drinking wine around the outdoor fire pit. And yet today, buttery sun is pouring in through my windows. I wore a t-shirt to run in Central Park. The clock at Columbus Circle read 72 degrees at 10 AM.
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