My mother drinks tea every morning. She steeps a bag of English breakfast or PG Tips in a tall, narrow Mason jar of boiling water. One shelf of the walk-in pantry is lined with smaller Mason jars, each full of cloudy amber-colored honey collected from the bees on our farm. Into her tea goes a large spoonful of that honey, then a generous glug of half-and-half, which swirls elegantly into the dark liquid, unspooling in curls and ribbons and turning the tea the antique-y white of heirloom bone china.
Read morePEAR, PROSCIUTTO + ARUGULA SALAD
I’m sitting on the couch—or rather, reclining somewhere in between lying and sitting up at some mysteriously perfect angle that puts a newborn baby right to sleep—and the skies are gray and blustery outside. The aforementioned newborn is curled up resting against my chest; there’s a specific and particular comfort to the sweet, heavy weight of a baby pressing against your skin. I lean down every so often to brush my lips against the top of his head, where his skin is soft and scented with the clean cotton smell of the Johnson’s baby lotion I rub over him after a tub.
Read moreFARMHOUSE BUTTERMILK CAKE
A really great name makes something good even better, don’t you think?
Consider finding the perfect shade of delicate petal pink nail polish, only to discover it’s called “No Pre-Nup” (which coincidentally happens to pair quite nicely with a color the soft pink of a ballet shoe called “High Maintenance”). And isn’t it more fun to crack open a cold can of craft beer knowing it’s called “Audrey Hopburn” (Great Lakes Brewery’s IPA) or “Beehave” (Greenport Harbor Brewing Co.’s honey summer ale). Watching the Kentucky Derby is infinitely more exciting if you’re cheering on a horse named “Riding Miss Daisy” or “Atswhatimtalkinbout”.
Read moreBERRY GLAZED BUNDT CAKE
The other evening I started writing a list of things I miss lately—but upon returning to it, I’ve decided on a different approach. Rather than talk about them wistfully, as if they’re too far gone, I’m going to talk about how much I like them. I’m going to catalog them as beautiful, shimmering, bright moments to look forward to, because they are all small things that I’ll happily encounter soon enough.
Read moreLEMON GOOEY BUTTER CAKE
Is it really dinner if there isn’t any dessert?
Rational adult answer: Yes, yes, it certainly is. Honest adult answer: Frankly, no. Not at all. Dessert is the “closure” to a meal, and if romantic comedies have taught us anything, we all need closure.
Sure, I’ve usually got frozen cookie dough balls waiting at the ready in our freezer to be baked off at the last minute (and by baked off I mean eaten frozen and raw by twos and threes in his case, or in my case, dug through and mined for the chocolate chips. Oops). And yes, there's generally a pint of ice cream tucked behind the frozen peas.
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