Spring is officially here. I know this because I ate two hamburgers and a hot dog and ice cream cake this weekend, and I had a beer before noon and quite possibly spent more time outdoors than in. Perhaps you do all these things during the winter months and a weekend of meat and beer binging is just the same in January as it is in April. But for me, it was revelatory and cleansing (in the way that nitrites and sugar are cleansing), and it marked a turning point in my mood, skin tone and otherwise, although I could have used at least one more snow storm or a few more below zero days. This gentle spring feels terribly undeserved.Read More
'Tis the season for pumpkin EVERYTHING: beer, M&M's, Oreos, waffles, vodka, chips, peanut butter, marshmallows, seltzer, muffins, ice cream, Pringles, toothpaste, tampons* and, of course, the classic PSL from Starbucks.** You name it, they probably make it in a pumpkin flavor. It's overwhelming.
Okay, fine, I'll admit it; I don't completely hate it. I'm actually enjoying my slow-paced ride on the Pumpkin Bandwagon [along with every other girl in America], but I did hop on a little late and with much less enthusiasm, so that's gotta count for something.Read More
"Muffins are a dish best served warm...and shared" or so they say. If some dishes are best served alone, then I do declare that muffins are the dish for sharing. They do of course come in bundles of a dozen or so, and how much more wonderful they taste with a cup of coffee and a good friend! In fact, in the history of muffin making, no one has EVER turned down a hand delivered muffin.
Follow me, if you will, for a moment down memory lane (Evergreen Lane, actually) to early mornings as a child, awoken by my alarm clock that was the sweet smell of cranberry orange muffins or lemon blueberry (or if I was especially lucky, jam filled cornmeal muffins) followed by the sharp smell of espresso and a few licks on the hand from my golden retriever, Dijon. If only everyone could wake up in this fashion! Groggy-eyed, I'd follow the scent to the kitchen where my dad would be found bundling up the baked treats in a kitchen towel, tucked into a basket, ready to be delivered to friends as a "thank you for helping me out last week" or "thanks for being great". A muffin gift truly speaks a thousand words. Not every muffin would make it into the basket, of course, and I would enjoy mine sliced open like a sandwich with a generous slice of butter tucked inside, melted immediately by the still steaming treat.Read More