On Sunday I did nearly no work, I put on a mask, which smelled sort of disgusting by the way, binge-watched Empire (just a lil’ obsessed!)…and then I ate nachos all by myself. It most likely was a sad sight but believe me when I say it was puuuuuure bliss.
This rhubarb egg white fizz fit into the equation later on, when it was nighttime and candles were lit. I had some almost-on-the-way out rhubarb in the fridge and I wanted to make myself a cocktail that was sort of girly and tasted delicious. Dis was it.
I’m gonna be honest with you and let you in on a lil’ secret: I’m not a margarita girl.
I hardly ever crave MARGS and I actually hate the way that word sounds. Maybe it’s because my grandmother’s name is Margarita and when you say it in Spanish it’s actually really pleasant-sounding—it means daisy! But the word “Margs” sounds like something a drunk girl on spring break would yell out and it’s just disgusting to me. I’m sorry if I’m being a negative right now! Sometimes I just don’t wake up all positive and on brand. Sowie.
I made these beergaritas, which also has a questionable name, and realized very quickly that their name is totally excusable and that I actually just dislike tequila. And mescal. And cristal. I’m so much fun right now! I like beer more. This is a combo of fresh lime juice, simple syrup and crisp, fresh beer. OMG so good. And that salted rim around the glass is soooo good with it too. Salty, sweet and sour for the absolute win.
When’s the last time you made yourself a super damn nice breakfast? If you can’t remember when, this weekend you have werk to do. Honestly I asked myself this question a few weeks ago and this shrug emoji was my response: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I dunno. I’ve been busy. Sometimes I skip breakfast. Sometimes I’m lazy. Sometimes I’m trying to eat healthy All really terrible answers, minus the last one. I decided I was going to make an effort on Saturday morning and made a version of these. They’re everything you want in crepes: light and airy, sweet and lemon-y, and the poppy seeds give them texture. Yas.
As you may know, I’m what the world considers a grilled cheese enthusiast. I’m not sure there’s another sandwich that can make me feel all the feelings of warmth, comfort and just plain ol’ fun. For this post, I teamed up with Tillamook, the farmer-owned Co-Op from Oregon, to inspire you to create your own all natural, veggie-filled, gooey, delicious sandwiches perfect for a spring party with friends. Every single party in life should have a Veggie Grilled Cheese Bar. HELLO! This is the definition of comforting fun!
Spring is finally here, which means all of my favorite farmer’s market vegetables are back in season. I always miss them in winter. Winter veggies aren’t my favorite, but spring? YASS! These grilled cheeses aren’t difficult to execute, no, not at all, but like anything simple, the amazingness is in the details. This means paying attention to each and every ingredient carefully.
We’ll start with the most important part: da cheese. Tillamook cheese is naturally aged, made with milk from cows not treated with artificial growth hormones and contains no artificial ingredients. This is the real deal when it comes to cheese. Tillamook has actually been making cheese for over 100 years! I vote for giving people a few options. I went with Tillamook Sharp Cheddar (a classic), Tillamook Pepper Jack (for the people who love spicy a.k.a. me), Smoked Medium Cheddar and lastly, Smoked Black Pepper Cheddar (my favorite).
Also, don’t be shy to mix and match them. My favorite combo was sharp cheddar with the smoked black pepper cheddar—it was glorious!
Hello you sweet gorgeous lil’ pie, you. I want to squish your cheeks like a grandma does a baby; I want to slap you on the ass like boys do in the locker room (I never understood this); I want to hug you so tightly that you get mad at me (I do this to Amelia daily). That’s how I feel about this pie.
This has Easter brunch situation written all over it. It’s the thing you bring to a brunch party and just wait for people to compliment you like crazy. And you can respond all NBD-like, Oh this pie, I just threw it together in like no time flat. Act casual.
If you’re not a rhubarb fan it’s probably because it was way too tart. It’s like tart celery.
I feel like a gigantic broken record when I say this, but OMG March flew by. How are we in April right now? I want February back. Actually, I’d be happy to re-live March again. Time is so fleeting, it moves so quickly that it’s actually scary. I wish I could freeze moments in times, months in time and just savor them a bit more. I sound like a gigantic baby but this is why my mom tells me 20s fly, 30s fly, enjoy them.
The month started off with all of the trees in Los Angeles blooming like crazy, like this one.
I’ve just binge-watched the entire eighth season of The Voice and I am in love with Gwen Stefani more than I was as a teenager, which is a crazy amount. I wish I was a singer just so I could try out for the voice with the hope she would want me on her team. But if I’m being honest, no one should hear me sing, EVER. Amelia hears me sing all day long and surprisingly she loves it (I think).
Oddly enough, I’m the worst singer in the world, but I love, LOVE karaoke. I don’t love to participate in karaoke, I just love to watch it. And here in LA, the land of Hollywood and fame and music, the karaoke bars are filled with people who moved here to become famous singers.
There was this one place in Hollywood I used to visit all the time called Miyagi’s; it was behind a Denny’s, attached to a bad sushi restaurant. No one ate sushi there but people loved singing karaoke at the bar.
The singers were incredible. There was the Asian dude who sang Guns and Roses ONLY (and he’d actually wear a Slash wig); there was this beautiful African American woman that sounded like India Aire but better; there was the guy from the mid-west who sounded like Frank Sinatra but looked like a surfer; and there was the MC who had been there since the 80s. The place was magical.
It was filled with people who had sort of given up on their dream; most of them had day jobs doing other things that they were ok with but they’d come to Miyagi’s to sing, because they couldn’t not.
I miss the south sometimes. A lot of times actually. I miss the summer rains, the golden leaves in fall, the beautiful flowers blooming in spring and the biscuits. Oh man, the flakey biscuits. Whenever I don’t know what to cook, I’ll usually think of something super boring and then give it a southern twist.
I like to think that this is a dish a southern girl would make after she spent the summer backpacking through Europe. Maybe she spent a few weeks in Switzerland, maybe she had a fling with a Swiss dude (think Before Sunrise-like) and during that fling she ate at a restaurant and was introduced to the wonderfulness that is raclette.
This isn’t the “right way” to eat raclette. It’s usually cheese that’s cooked over an open fire, the cheese gets super melty and then the cheese is scraped onto awesome things like a variety of meats, vegetables and carbs.
Spring is the season when tulips bloom, birds chirp and cute produce finally starts to show its face at the market. Finally! It’s the season when gatherings are aplenty, like Passover and Easter and Mama’s Day. It’s also the season when I make any excuse to make deviled eggs because deviled eggs!
The biggest problem with deviled eggs is that I can eat like eight in a row and not feel a thing. It’s like they’re not real food that actually makes me full, that’s how much I love them.
For this recipe, I teamed with McCormick Gourmet to make deviled eggs even more southern than they already are. Pimento cheese is a long dear friend of mine. It’s one of those spreads that I want to put on all the things and I have.