Insert: tall evergreen trees, dark shadowy water, fresh air, the smell of burning wood, Christmas lights.
This is Lake Placid during the winter, and it was everything we were hoping for and more. We planned this little Christmas family getaway (in lieu of gifts) with a couple of simple things in mind: winter wonderland-esque and #flannelsandbourbon vibes.
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In what feels like a constant “attempt” to eat healthier (using attempt lightly here because my efforts are limited, at best, most days), the one kind of lighter meal that never makes me feel like I’m skimping is soup. I love soup, and I love nearly every variety. But a spicy Mexican chicken soup with a la carte toppings? I’m in, every time.
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As much as I love cooking, I just as much love being cooked for. Why does it always taste better when someone else makes it?! Fact. And even if by ‘cooking’ I just mean being poured a bowl of cereal...it’s still the best! Whether it’s a hearty dinner or something simple and thrown together, it just always feels special. It sounds strange, but I so look forward to a day of having little munchkins running around my house who might one day decide to make me breakfast or something special for Mother’s Day—I think I’ll find it the absolute sweetest thing on earth.
Anyway, Jon makes a great lasagna, and it’s one of my very favorite home-cooked, indulgent comfort foods...
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I couldn’t possibly talk about raspberry linzer torte without using the circumstances to exploit my mom in regards to what was one of the funniest experiences of our lives to date.
Linzer torte has been a specialty of my mom’s for a long, long time. It’s always been her go-to dish for any sort of festivity. I’ve seen her make it countless times, have eaten the leftover raw batter until I felt sick, and have heard people rave about it.
But all that aside, the best thing that linzer torte has given me is this one story.
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And shades of green...
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I feel like brunch is one of those meals that is supposed to be relaxed. It’s a Sunday morning, or even Christmas morning, and it’s cold and quiet and snowy outside, and I'm with my favorite people. In my mind’s eye, I see myself floating around effortlessly, sipping on a cup of coffee, chatting with my friends or family, and serving up a casual but delicious meal. But in my actual eye, I see myself juggling the timing of each dish, handling hot pans dripping with grease and making a mess everywhere I go, and trying to tackle the salty-sweet dilemma that everyone faces at breakfast time.
This dish is the answer to this real struggle—it’s the perfect meal to serve comfortably, unrushed, and still with that hint of decadence that brunch always begs for—i.e. it can rise to the Bloody Mary and mimosa occasion.
Oh and it also makes the best leftovers for lunch and dinner!
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And some variety in the details...
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Several months ago, Jon got in a wormhole of sorts watching YouTube videos of the late Julia Child’s The French Chef.
If you’ve never seen it, take a minute sometime and watch her. She is such an inspirational figure to me—a phenomenal chef with absolutely no fuss about her. And her show isn’t filmed with a thousand cuts and takes like today’s cooking shows. You get to experience every step, every funny moment, every lost word, every everything and she is delightful.
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Me and everyone else after Thanksgiving: diet starts tomorrow
Me and everyone else after the weekend following Thanskgiving: diet starts Monday
Me and everyone else Monday: diet starts January 2nd
The. struggle….
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I’m a little amazed that this is my first coconut recipe on the blog, but it’s a fitting first because it’s a tried and true favorite. Coconut is so, well, special. There’s no other flavor like it, and it ramps up everything that it’s in. Some of my favorites include: coconut curry, coconut gelato, pina coladas, and coconut macaroons. I even love that weird fake coconut scent a la tanning lotion from 9th grade. I love putting coconut oil in my hair even though I’m not convinced it’s even doing anything other than staining my leather couch when my pigeon brain forgets that I’m doing a coconut oil treatment. I love eating fresh coconut, and speaking of, how much better does coconut anything taste when you’re on the beach? Take me there!
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One of my favorite absurd games to play is the “no calorie” game. Here’s the game: if you could pick three foods that would magically become zero-calorie foods, what would you choose? The rules are flexible and pretty much anything goes—but you can’t say things like “sweets.” However, you can say “pizza” even though it consists of many different food items. Everyone I introduce to this game takes it very seriously—which makes sense because it’s really realistic/important/relevant/topical. Just kidding but for some reason everyone loves it. After 20 minutes of consideration and back and forth about contenders, it’s oddly depressing when you remember it’s not actually going to happen. But *~*dReAm BiG*~*
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It's a cow's world and chickens are just living in it. In fact, it's a world shared by cows, pigs, fish, even plants, and chickens are just living in it. That's how I tend to feel about it, anyway—I'd choose steak, a burger, pork, halibut, shrimp, scallops, etc. over chicken nearly any day of the week—unless, of course, we're talking about chicken thighs. "To me, you are perfect" - Love Actually, and also me talking to chicken thighs. A rose among thorns. A diamond in the rough. AKA chicken thighs.
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Jon is a man of many hats—one of the more common ones is workman. He has completely gutted and/or renovated and/or built out all three of his restaurants, and he really, really enjoys it. He is currently engaged in the overhaul of the kitchen at the bar, and on Sunday, he and two friends planned to work on it all day. I thought it would be nice to bring them over lunch, so I made what is my favorite deli meat sandwich, inspired by one from a local bakery that I can't get enough of: good white bread, roast beef, provolone, arugula, red onion, and caper mayo with a little bit of horseradish. Grilled. And served with kettle chips. It's perfection.
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For all my office worker bees, or anyone who packs a lunch during the week: this is for you! I understand the effort required to A. make lunch ahead of time, B. pack it up for work, C. make and pack up a lunch for work that still sounds appetizing come lunchtime when there are paninis/pizza/pho just around the river bend AKA block. I rely on make-ahead lunches for work and I promise I’ll only ever tell you about them if they’re worth it. Chicken salad is one of my favorite things to make because there are so many directions you can go with it (traditional, with celery and tarragon / summery a la Pioneer Woman with sweet corn, blueberries, and feta / Asian, loaded with veggies, Sriracha sauce, and sesame notes—the list goes on), and all feel indulgent and satisfying.
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French toast is the ultimate breakfast comfort food. It starts with smelling it while it’s cooking. I have this thing about the smell of eggs on a skillet and it might be one of my favorite smells in the world. With French toast, though, the scent isn’t just eggs. It’s buttery, custardy, and just absolutely dreamy. Another thing about French toast is that I’m not sure what’s more satisfying—having someone cook it for you, or cooking it for someone else. Also, how gorgeous is a plate of French toast topped with a pat of butter and glossy hot maple syrup? Clearly I could go on forever—I’m telling you, it’s the stuff comfort is made of.
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I think everyone has a go-to food blog, and mine is unabashedly Smitten Kitchen. I have never made one of Deb's recipes and not loved it. In pursuing my own blog, it was and is one of my goals to always be authentic in every way, and part of that is to only post those recipes I really and truly feel 100% about. I like to follow recipes that are delicious and that are worth it—worth the money, the effort, the time. And being able to serve those dishes to other people is the best part. That's why I love Smitten Kitchen.
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There’s something about Brunch @ Bobby’s that is so stinking mouth-watering and a true feast for the eyes. Bobby Flay, to me, is a chef who demonstrates poise, comfort, and talent. He is so fun to watch because he is smooth, effortless, and creative in the kitchen, and he produces such elevated dishes. I always get inspired to cook when I watch him, and I always feel like I’m learning something new from a trustworthy source, and those two things are what I love most about a cooking show.
One Sunday morning, I was watching Bobby’s “Marrakech Express Brunch” episode, and he made Moroccan eggs. It looked so good that I had to make it. And that’s incredibly rare—it takes a lot to actually inspire me to go to my least favorite place (the grocery store) on a whim and whip up a dish from a recipe I’ve never made before when I’m already starving—that’s what bagels are for in my life—but this time was different. I was so inspired to recreate the dish, and I am so, so glad I did.
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The best gift I ever received was a book full of all my grandma's baking recipes. She built a collection for me over the course of a few months, writing down for the first time some of her very best recipes that she knows by heart. Others are newspaper clippings or type-written rules passed down from some of her family members. The pages are decorated with little stickers and little notes of advice and tips from her. When I opened it up on Christmas I was blown away by the thoughtfulness, and to say that I cherish it is an understatement.
My grandma will always be my favorite cook and my favorite baker. She has been making some of her specialities for us since we were very little, and I am so excited to be able to share them with my own kids someday.
She makes the best coffee cake. It's old fashioned, straight forward, and delicious. It'd be the perfect lazy Labor Day breakfast-in-bed with a good cup of coffee.
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