
I like to think that galettes are like lazy, messy, casual pies. You only sorta have to roll them out. You only sorta have to make them look pretty. But really, the messier the better. It’s about the easy.
I can’t really think of a meal of the day where easy is most welcomed than on a cold, hazy January morning.
Let’s have pie for breakfast. But let’s leave the fruit for the summer. It’s January. So, pie…with runny eggs, lots of cheese and salty bacon.
Too good!
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Hi!
I know a few days ago I was totally publicly flirting with Fall, talking about pumpkin this and cuddle that and apple cider whatever…and here I am posting this recipe with slices of heirloom tomatoes and fresh pesto.
I’m sort of all over the place, but that’s what you get during this awkward period between seasons. My brain isn’t sure what’s appropriate. My heart knows to look for cheese for the answers…
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Sometimes I do things I’m not so proud of. This is true.
Like…putting ice cubes in white wine. I’m impatient. I dunno…in the privacy in my own house I like “mom” wine. Gross.
I sometimes buy three bags of groceries and then decide I don’t want to cook and go out to eat instead. Total brat.
I’m also known to back out of Saturday night plans…because sometimes sitting on the couch internet stalking–for some reason–sounds like WAY more fun. Lame. Totally lame.
I’m really bad at returning library books. I found two under my bed. I’m guessing I now owe LA County Library like thousands of dollars for two $10 books from the 70s. I’m also pretty convinced that those fees are going to end up at the DMV. LA doesn’t play.

Sometimes though…sometimes I do really good things.
Like look at my friends dead in their eyes and tell them that I love them. This makes them super awkward and squirm in their seat. And then they usually just tell me to shut up.
I really dig telling strangers “bless you” when they sneeze. They’re always pleasantly surprised.
Whenever a boy, who I don’t know, opens the door for me, I look at them in their face and smile extra hard. And not in a I-like-you-let-me-make-you-eggs-and-bacon kind of way, but in a thank-you-for-being-a-damn-gentlemen way…now let’s get married!! JK.
No, no. I just like saying thank you the proper way, that’s all.
If I’m feeling particularly rich, I’ll put $2 (instead of $1) in my barista’s tip jar. They totally deserve more. Maybe more money and a hug? I’m a handful without coffee.
I can also turn a sandwich into a pizza. I think this qualifies as one of the good things I did recently.
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Remember when you were a kid, and on special occasions your mom would make chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast? This of course meant you got to eat chocolate for your main meal and didn’t have to wait for dessert. That was super cool. One time I was actually allowed to eat chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. I thought my little kid head might just explode.
It’s kinda how I feel about this panini. A panini with brie is nothing new to me, but chocolate? Oh my lord does that sound good. And now we’re adding basil? Yeah, I think my adult head just exploded.

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This post is gonna be a bit sentimental. I apologize, but going to weddings does that do me. I’m freshly back from a trip to North Carolina to see Chase’s step-brother get married, and am exhausted and happy from an amazing weekend.
A lot happened in just one day:
I saw my future brother-in-law smile more times than I’ve seen in the 5 years I’ve known him.
I ate more wedding cake than I did actual food. Don’t tell my mother.
I saw my future father-in-law cry. Twice.
I did the Cupid Shuffle. It happens.
I saw two awesome people become one beautiful couple.
Stop rolling your eyes, I told you this was a sentimental post. I tried to warn you.


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Not sure if you all recall, but a few months ago a reporter asked Kate Moss what one of her favorite quotes was. She replied with: “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” Umm…isn’t that hilarious…and sorta sad? I mean, I’m grateful for her honesty. Thank heavens she’s not that skinny while scarfing down hamburgers and fries on a daily basis. I’m glad she came clean about depriving herself of all things awesome.
When I’m really super bored, I sometimes dream about what I would feed her. My first instinct is to whip her up some pancakes. Lots of them. But what I really think would make her to cave in are these Baked Portobello Fries with Basil Aioli. You see, the word “baked” means they’re healthy. I think she’d dig that. I mean, I did.
I saw them on a menu at this restaurant across town, but didn’t order them since I wasn’t in the mood for something fried. I was kinda feeling like Kate, so I ordered a whole pizza instead. I couldn’t stop thinking about them after that night, vowing to drive over there just for them, but it never worked out. That’s when I decided to take my craving/curiosity into my own hands and make them myself. And boy, am I glad I did.

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