Monday, June 29, 2009

Plain & Simple.

Sometimes the most plain and simple food hits the spot after two long days in the park. Even though it only takes a few minutes, cooking at home is so much more satisfying once in a while than going out.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Looking Up.

Sometimes in cities it's easy to forget that there remains a world above eye level, or pavement level; sometimes you just have to look up.


Friday, June 26, 2009

Canal House Cooking.

Recently Canal House Cooking put out their first book and it does not disappoint. I might be kind of biased because i've had a chance to hang out with the lovely ladies of Canal House Cooking a time or two, and they might have sat me in front of their fireplace and gave me cookies and tea, but that doesn't mean i can't be blown away by their beautiful work. The book is chock full of amazing summer recipes and stunning photography and illustrations. I want to cook every single thing in this book. Buy it here!

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Future Needs.

Someday one of these will be mine. It will sit next to my wooden box full of hand written recipes. It will mix gingerbread, and chocolate chip cookies, and pound cake. It will make everything i need to make bellies of loved ones full. 


Sometimes the things that you lust after just finally need to become a reality. This is especially true when they are things that you hope will be around in your life for a very, very long time. Getting this today made me a happier person. Long live the ampersand. 

Monday, June 22, 2009


If there's one thing today that is absolutely swell... it's my dad. Happy father's day.

Nature Always Wins.

This past week my house in pennsylvania flooded and it caught me off guard more than i thought it would. Houses flood all of the time... people deal with this constantly, right? But when it's your things that are affected you go into immediate panic mode and when you're far away it feels even worse. I didn't know what was ruined, what was salvageable. Dozens of my books that i'd collected over the years at school would have their pages pressed together, my grandfather's photos soggily stuck to their pages, rugs full of water underfoot. It's strange to see decades spread out in empty spaces of your house all mingling together. Textbooks on dada next to class photos of my grandfather from high school, Fitzgerald novels next to polaroids from the 80s of family trips to Disney World. History comes together, nature always wins.

Sunday, June 21, 2009


It All Takes Time.

Sometimes i forget how many steps it takes to cook, and when you decide to cook a large family dinner i love that it takes all day. Prepping food, measuring out ingredients, getting timing just right, setting tables, making things presentable. I wish i could just cook and bake and be in an apron and making delicious food for all of the people that i love all day every day, it's something i always want to share.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Home Is Where You Hang Your Hat.

Two weekends in a row i've left the city, and only until you live in new york will you realize how necessary it is to clear your head. Coming home to leave work, and subways, and cabs, and $8 cocktails, and meager dinners, and being in a hurry to get everywhere even if you don't have any reason to be there at a certain time, and more caffeine than is healthy, and judging and getting judged, and reminders that you're one little being amongst so many, and being more tired than you knew was humanly possible. It will be nice when coming home doesn't mean that i'm here to get my mouth pried open for dentists and periodontists and endodontists, with metal tools clanking against teeth you can't feel anymore because the roots aren't there, and novocaine needles housed in their menacing silver casing, and plastic that pulls apart your cheeks so that you can have an alien like probes shoot x-rays of your bones. Either way there will never be a time when home doesn't mean baking, endless amounts of being in the kitchen, standing mixing brownies, and cookies, and pasta, and sauce, and vegetables, looking at all different kinds of cookbooks, printed recipes and handwritten ones splayed out on the concrete counters side by side, some with flour all over them lovingly and some brand new and some crisply printed, never tried. I love home and waking up only hearing birds and nothing else, seeing trees outside my window. Family is good, and home is good, and it makes me feel relaxed just stepping foot inside the doorframe on the back porch, Lily running to greet me. I cannot wait for a home of my own, a place to be proud of, animals that meet me when i'm home from work, a place to make me feel at ease.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Beauty, Pt. II.

These flowers look like they've just woken up from a peaceful slumber and are stretching while a beam of sunlights warms them. A yawn escapes, and then they're ready to start their day.

Check it.

Ch ch ch ch check it out. Can never have enough.

All Good Things.

Bob Willoughby turned 80 years old last year, and decided that it was about time for him to release many of his prints that had never been showcased by galleries. So, as we do these days, he put them up on a flickr account. I really like this picture of Audrey Hepburn he posted. Somehow it feels like we're looking through a keyhole into her world, and her world is so bizarre and beautiful. Of course Audrey Hepburn's life includes calmly feeding baby deer and huge bouquets of flowers. 

Monday, June 15, 2009

What We Eat in the Summertime.

A Breather.

Sometimes my head needs a whole lot of nothing to clear itself. The most expansive amount of that nothing for me is in Vermont. I sit atop large rocks in the middle of wildflowers looking out into a valley spotted by red barns. Take long walks that amble throughout fields and densely packed trees. I sit in a kitchen while a cat purrs on my lap. Horses play in a field and there is green all around me. So much, yet nothing at all. Life feels correct in Vermont, i think they're onto something. Someday i will be there for a while.

Friday, June 5, 2009

How Things Have Been.

Clicking on my own blog to see how it was looking these days made me realize that there is a serious lack of words on the page. I thought that perhaps i should remedy that now, as i sit here not quite sure if i want to combat the rain just yet. Here is a list of what has happened last time i talked about life. 

  • I graduated from college, and it feels pretty strange to think about never being able to say i'm an undergrad again. It doesn't feel very final though since i'm heading straight to London for grad school in the fall. 
  • I still have endless dentist appointments. Tip for the year: don't knock your teeth out. It's just not fun. 
  • I moved into a little studio in the East Village and for the first time in my life i have a place completely alone. No strangers to see awkwardly in the morning before work and no one to walk in on watching tv when you come in late at night. Just a place to be all my own, filled with all of the things that i love. 
  • I started the last few months (until i leave for the UK) of my job that i've had for three years. This probably feels the most bizarre, especially because i realized that this is one of the most flexible amazing jobs in the world. I get my own office in the city, can take as many vacations as i want, and get flown places to catalogue art. 
  • I had an amazing barbeque with all of my friends at home after school ended, and it gave me the closure to school that i needed. Nothing beats whiffle ball, cupcakes, lots of sangria, hots dogs and sparklers. 
  • I found an apartment in London with a friend who is also going to the Courtauld, which reduces my stress levels immensely. 
  • I got fingerprinted at a scary building for my visa.
Those are all of the big things. Of course there are the small things like finding a nice neighborhood bar, spending way too much on summer dresses that will be used for picnic-ing in the park and eating lots of Two Boots pizza... and there you have it.

Thursday, June 4, 2009