eat cake!

Yesterday, Lindsay and I made a pilgrimmage to one of our favorite places on earth, Terrain for Brooklyn Day. We met one of the boys from McClure's Pickles (whose Bloody Mary Mix was super-delicious), as well as the lovely boys behind Brooklyn-bakery Baked, whose cookbook Baked Explorations is one of my new faves (I've made the doughnuts, whoopie pies, and a chocolate snack cake since I bought the book at Christmas-time). We hit it off with The Baked Boys immediately -- I think my size may have been an indication to them that I take baked goods pretty seriously. Then I showed them my tattoo -- needless to say, it was a big hit. Matt (in the middle of the picture) recommends their chocolate chip oatmeal cake as the next must-bake. I'm planning to try it this afternoon -- will let you know!

eggs

andrew and neal make beautiful eggs. philadelphia magazine says so.

harry, and mom v. dad

I came across a writing assignment that Lucy did early on in 3rd grade (ages and ages ago...5th grade is on the horizon!), a tragic tale about our dog Harry's death. Harry was an awesome dog -- a funny looking terrier mix who loved nothing more than to follow Richard around and drive him crazy. Lucy was five when he died of mysterious causes. A trip to the emergency vet on the day he died yielded a report that read, "Harry is so cute!!!" Super helpful. Anyway...Lucy's description of the sad day, from a distance of three years, is both touching and hilarious, particularly in the way that Richard and I are depicted. While I am described as weeping on the night of Harry's death (true), I clearly recovered very quickly in Lucy's mind. Check out this touching exchange:

"A day later I was still very crestfallen. My mom decided that we should get him cremated. I asked her what it meant. She said it meant to burn him. 'No, no! Don't burn him,' I exclaimed. 'It'll hurt him! No, no! You can't!' My mom replied, 'Honey, I know you love him but we can't let him rot here in the house.'"

Oh. My. God. I know that I tend toward directness, but really? I am quite sure I never said "We can't let him rot here in the house" to my grieving 5-year-old.....

But no worries, Richard comes to the rescue.

"I soon fell asleep with a book over my face. In the morning my dad woke me up with the enticing aroma of pancakes."

So, I am the grim reaper, burning dead dogs, and Richard is Mary F-ing Poppins, whipping up a fresh batch of pancakes to restore happiness to the world. Perfect.

wishing

I asked Lucy today what she would wish for if she only had one wish.

She thought about it for a second or two, and then said, "A happy life."

Wow. That's what I wish for her too.

Lucy's best friend Serena reports that the last time she asked Lucy that question, she answered, "A lifetime supply of pancakes." Which in the end, amounts to the same thing, I suppose.

the simple things

My mom is a great cook, specializing in simple, old-fashioned food. And she knows how to cook just about everything -- if you're ever in a bind and don't know how to cook something, or need to know what cut of meat to buy, definitely call MJP -- she can help you out. She has taught me tons of great techniques -- like lump-free gravy, and a killer, foolproof pie crust. But one of the best things she ever taught me how to cook, and probably one one of the first, was popcorn. Old school popcorn in a dutch oven on the stove top. In need of a salty snack, and no chips in the house? Whip up a batch of popcorn! If you cook it in olive oil, it's even relatively healthy, and always delicious. Plus, it only takes about 5 minutes from start to finish. Suck it, greasy, salty, preservative-laden microwave popcorn. MJP has you beat.

pies n' thighs

reviewed in the new yorker this week. ate there with our brooklyn posse (this means you, JoJo, Franco, and Mike) earlier this year, and it was crazy tasty. fried chicken, mac & cheese, collards, biscuits, and pie - like whoa. love this line from the review: "The place is generally full of youngish Williamsburg types with beards and assertive eyewear, and enough plaid shirts to make you think you’ve ended up in the Appalachians."

assertive eyewear. funny.

tastes just like store-boughten!

homemade beet, sweet potato, and potato chips.


file under "yes, you CAN make these, but it will take you at least one hundred times as long as it would to open a bag of terra chips."