Dad’s Favorite Spicy Sausage Soup with Kale

I spent eight years of my life in Los Angeles going to college, falling in love, and enacting all of the insecure “what do I want to do with my life?!” agony that a young twenty-something faces. After college I went to school for make-up artistry in Burbank, and spent lots of days in a hot room with other girls who liked lipstick. We learned how to do makeup for every occasion, and then we learned how to make realistic bullet holes and third degree burns. I worked as a photographer, taking head-shots of other insecure twenty-somethings trying to make it in Hollywood. I worked as a teacher. That was my favorite job. Kids are never boring. Ever. […]

Rustic Beef, Tomato & Cabbage Stew

There are few things I find more satisfying than a bowl of soup!

In the same vein, there are few things I find more dissatisfying than coming home to a sad, random, slightly bare and slightly rotten fridge. You know the kind. Maybe you go away for a weekend, and then Monday evening rolls around. You open up your fridge to discover a couple of carrots, an egg carton with one whole egg and six egg shells (whoops), half a cabbage, and a Tupperware full of  already-dressed, already-soggy salad. This feels bad. This feels confrontational. Your fridge doesn’t seem to get that you are hungry and you need it to go to the store for you. You’re tired. You’re hungry. You’re in no mood for grocery shopping. You protest by eating half a jar of pickles. […]

Apple & Cinnamon Bourbon Hot Toddy

It’s raining outside. Remember all of those complaints about how it was November and I still had a sweat-stache? Well, now those complaints are replaced with the fact that my lawn has turned into a bog, and how much my golden retriever is into mud. She’s like really really into it. This isn’t great for me. It’s also not great for her once she realizes that she’s going to be met with the cold side of a hose before she’s allowed to gallop her fancy-ass inside.

This rain also means it’s gosh-darn cozy. As a first in our little family, we purchased and mounted an entire evergreen tree in our living room before the first of December. We strung lights as the rain thwacked at the windows. We reminisced about all of the ornaments we put onto the tree. We paused when we realized how many ornaments we have are cat themed. Also, how many framed photograph ornaments of ones dog is too many? I made soup out of the leftover thanksgiving turkey and the broth that I made from the bones in my new pressure cooker. We ate pie recklessly by the fire, like a couple of Bears seeking calories before hibernation. Christmas carols happened. Then, I bought a poinsettia. Then a garland. We hung an advent calendar. I’m thinking about stringing lights in our archways. Let’s just say it all escalated quickly. And, in a fit of holiday cheer and  couch snuggling… between viewings of The Holiday and In Bruges we drank these hot toddies. We kept repeating the phrase “Toddy with a hot-body” and chuckling a lot. I don’t even know. It felt right. […]

Roasted Kabocha Squash, Carrot & Ginger Soup With Lamb Meatballs

So, I haven’t eaten eggs, tomatoes, peppers, white potatoes, eggplant, grains, dairy or nuts in about twelve days.

I’m doing a bit of an elimination diet in order to detect some suspected food allergies. I’m not going to lie to you, it could be easier. In the past twelve days I’ve realized I feel slightly paralyzed without eggs and I put tomatoes in nearly everything. But, in the hopes of not freaking out and attempting to sell my kidney on the black market for a plate of runny-yolked gold, I’ve been trying my best to make satiating meals that aren’t lacking in flavor. However, I’d like to reiterate that taking away things like tomatoes and chili powder and paprika make me feel like I’m cooking with a couple of those lobster claw oven mitts on. A little clumsy. A little frustrated. A little confused as to why I have lobster claws instead of hands. I’m sure there were like a zillion better, more coherent similes that I could have used right there. But, of course, I went oven mitts. Oy. […]