I woke up this morning, my head throbbing dimly as a reminder of last night: the loud bar, low pulsating music, a throng of bodies crowded into a warm room. I stand at the kitchen counter. I’ve done the usual to wake up. A brisk walk, the cold wind stinging my eyes. A cup of milky coffee. Now, I’m alert but still operating at half-speed.
Read moreMINT CHOCOLATE SANDWICH COOKIES
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.
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