Spring Asparagus Salad with Pistachios and Pecorino

Hello. It’s nice to see you all again.

First off, I’d just like to casually acknowledge that I’m not dead. So, that’s good. Still alive. But, if you follow me on Instagram, and watch my Insta-Stories, you might know that I happened to catch some sort of viral pneumonia situation, which at times, felt like I very well might be dead. Or, at least deliriously living in between a state of breathing and some sort of dark cough-prison where my bones weigh a million pounds and the Real Housewives of Potomac waxes un-poetically in the background. Do you understand the depths of Netflix garbage you can consume in a period of nine weeks of respiratory lock down? I pray you never have to know. […]

Daikon And Carrot Noodle Salad With Sesame Ginger Dressing

I haven’t sat down to write in this space for three months.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I’ve come here. I’ve flipped the lid of my laptop. I’ve stared blankly into the screen. I’ve opened up a fresh document and wrote over a thousand emotional words about the hollow exhaustion I feel on this lengthy health journey–plus, just all the feelings.

Feelings about shootings,  infuriatingly flippant rape convictions and all of the tirelessly troubling news that seemed to hit over and over again during the summer. The 2016 political climate and how IDONTUNDERSTANDWHATISHAPPENING.  I wrote about why I wasn’t writing. I just wrote all the words that came up. The word vomit. Out of my finger tips. Finger vomit? Feelings vomit? Finger feelings? I wrote those.

How do I say all the things I need to say? How vulnerable is too vulnerable? Do I even have anything important to say? I’ve been silent for too long. Do I even remember how to blog?  This is a food blog, should I even talk about rape here? So many important things are going on, not to mention the crippling exhaustion I’ve faced these last months struggling with my own health. Should I let them know that sometimes, even though I’m strong, I cry and sincerely fear that I will never be healthy again? Should I really just write about salad? Look, here’s a nice salad. Surely I can’t come back from not saying any words, and being silently overwhelmed with emotions, just to jump back in like nothing ever happened and make you guys a salad!! […]

Veggie Lover’s Easy Asian Slaw With Sesame Dressing

Growing up is weird, right?

The more grown I get, the more uncertain I am if the term “grown up” is even a real thing. I think, like most young people, I had this false hope that one morning in my late twenties I would awaken with a strong grip on how to do taxes, and the willingness to save money for a new sensible vacuum cleaner. I would be tidier. I’d have cosmically started a retirement account. I would feel a certain maturity. The depth of my wisdom would increase alongside the axis of how strong my prescription glasses needed to be. I would definitely not curse in front of my husband’s boss. And, I probably wouldn’t sign business e-mails with emojis. But, this doesn’t happen. It’s not concrete. I still have the crappy vacuum cleaner I purchased when I was nineteen. I’m wiser, but not above asking Web MD if I am dying when I have a headache. I’m aware that grown up mail is usually just a slew of bills, credit card offers, and an L.L Bean catalog from that time I purchased my husband a fleece. I’m aware that sometimes the child who is working the checkout of a Trader Joes will call me Ma’am and not card me when I purchase wine. And, I’m certainly aware that being a grown up means eating a lot of veggies. […]

Massaged Kale Salad With Cherries, Pistachios & Grilled Flank Steak

Happy Monday, folks! My husband, Peter, is in the house today writing some words about salad. I really love this human, and I hope you do too. But, not too much. He’s mine. Alright, I’ll chill out. Here’s some words on vegetables… 

I come from a family of salad skeptics. Sure, we’d have lettuce or vegetables as a side with dinner. Maybe it’d even include salad dressing with questionable expiration dates from my parent’s fridge. But the concept of a salad as a main course was a foreign one. The closest we got was a kale-mashed potato-sausage mash-up that I hated as a kid, however, older me is kicking younger me for missing out on that treasure. That diddy was of course made and served by my mom. My dad falls into the camp of “suspicious of anything green”. To this day, when it comes to vegetables, getting my father to eat his broccoli is a bib and a highchair away from my mother trying to airplane it into his mouth. So, salad as dinner? No. […]