Fall

Thanksgiving Madness. It’s totally a thing. When I was younger, I used to take Thanksgiving VERY seriously. I’d cook the entire Thanksgiving meal including dessert, and since I had way too much on my plate, something would inevitably fail or not turn out and I’d get super bummed.

But now I’m just like, so what, who cares. There’s a chance that the turkey might be on the dry side, you might burn something, heck, I dunno, you might even drop a whole dish on the floor (I’ve done this). I recommend to treat those moments with laughs and shrugs…and then proceed to pour a ton of gravy over the turkey–that’s what it’s there for anyway. Thanksgiving cooking is supposed to involve lots of wine, laughs and way too many cooks in the kitchen. All that makes it Thanksgiving.

If you’d like some ideas for sides and stuffing and dessert, I got some.

Stuffing Muffins – People will think you’re the most adorable person in the world if you make stuffing muffins. I mean, look at them! Cuteness central.

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Has anyone ever told you that you resemble a particular kind of animal?

When I was in 2nd grade the “mean kid in class” stood up in front of everyone and said I looked like a turtle. I remember my brain immediately thinking of cute animated sea-turtles that swim underwater and have adorable little feet. I didn’t take it as an insult…at first. But then all the other kids started laughing and I quickly realized what was going on. Always remember that when a boy tells you that you look like an animal, it means he hate/likes you.

Then when I was in 6th grade a boy told me I looked like a squirrel. Again, I think squirrels are pretty cute (minus the rabbies part) and took it as a compliment, sorta. Until…I realized that I shouldn’t. For the remaining school year he called me squirrel instead of Adrianna. I didn’t mind it nearly as much as I should’ve.

Have you ever been told you look like a horse? A rabbit? A sloth? If you have, don’t take it as an insult, just think of the cutest most animated horse out there. They’re most likely super pretty. Random lessons from me on this Monday!

Ok enough, let’s talk pie/pretty braids/bourbon!

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Kale Pesto

in Dinner, Pasta

When I think about making pesto, a romantic little picture is painted in my brain. I’m in a rustic, Tuscany-style home, barefoot in some sort of oldish, wrinkled – yet totally chic – long, linen dress, in a kitchen that’s older than my great, great grandma, and I’m there making pesto with the guidance of a sweet Italian old woman I can barely communicate with.

I’m adding stuff to the mortar and pestal, grinding it up and we’re laughing and looking adorable. The pesto is made from fresh basil that I picked just a few moments before, the cheese made from the neighbor’s cow and the garlic is fresh from the early morning’s walk (because I imagine you can just walk down the street and run into garlic everywhere. I dunno?). I’ve never been to Italy, sadly, so I’m not positive, but in my brain this is how it works.

The real life story of this pesto is that it was made by a girl living in LA who’s had one too many tootsie rolls this past week and needs a proper dinner. I have electricity so I opted to make this using a food processor, though a pretty mortar and pestal is totally on my Christmas list!

I’m a pretty big fan of pestos that aren’t traditional (evidence: here and here), which makes me believe that maybe I should be calling them something other than “pestos,” but whatever. This “pesto” is what I like to think of as a basil-no-longer exists kind of pesto. It celebrates the changing season, so kale is in place of fresh basil.

In this instance I used dino. Mainly because it’s called dino and that’s the coolest name in the world for a vegetable. If I was a dude I totally wish my name was dino.

Also, do you think dinosaurs ate dino kale? Hope so.

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Soup weather is the best weather. Fareal.

Last week we had a very brutal and random heatwave where it decided to be 90˙F(!!!). I had a literal and figurative meltdown that day. It was bad. But now the cold weather is here and I’m back to being stoked on life.

It makes me super grateful that we live in a world where hot weather takes a break–and allows us to stop sweating–and cold air enters. And I’m glad sweaters exists, and dogs with wrinkly faces exist, and, AND soup exists! Rad.

I love punk’n. Are you all punk’n-ed out? Hope not. It’s only October, guys. We’ve got a solid more month of this stuff.

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There’s that very popular saying, “Don’t go to the grocery store hungry.” I personally LOVE going to the grocery store hungry. I act like a hunter in the wild. I’m focused, assertive and efficient. I want my food, I want it now, and then I wanna go home so I can cook it and eat it. Super simple. Life is easy. Now let’s watch some more Felicity.

But if I venture into the grocery store when I’m not hungry and have no where to be, OMG am I a mess. I mosey. Yes, I mosey. I inspect new-to-me products, check out the ingredients, read the stories of how they got their start, and many times get all emotionally involved, like, Aww they got their start making granola out of their barn in the back and look at them now! Cute!

I take food pics of fun produce I find. And sometimes I compare my nail polish color to seasonal produce and Instagram about it. This stuff just happens.

A few nights ago I went to the grocery store with no focus. At the end of hour one, I was there with an empty basket just staring blankly at the spice section. I spotted “apple pie spice” and “pumpkin pie spice.” And they were selling them for $6?! Yes, $6.

I don’t typically use pumpkin pie spice, though I do know a lot of recipes call for it. And if you’re making a pumpkin pie, throw it in the puree, it’s bound to be delicious!

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I really love sleeping.

I know most people like sleeping, but I really really love it. I don’t like sleeping for long periods of time (hello headaches), but the sleep I do get is heavenly. I wake up sometimes wishing I could repeat the sleep.

Like, I wish I could go back in time to midnight and do the whole thing over again. Which is sort of ironic, considering I fall asleep at midnight dreaming about the next morning cup of coffee.

I lay my head down on my pillow and can literally hear the sound of the coffee pouring out of my chemex and into my mug. I’m a weird human, I understand.

Despite my sleep-loving attitude, I’m not particular about pillows. I don’t need fancy pillows, goose-down pillows, thempur-pedic pillows (though I actually have one and love it) or any of that fancy stuff. I just need something a piece of foam that smells good and is soft. I’m a simple pillow person!

But if I’m gonna eat pillows, I need them to be stuffed with cool stuff like spiced pumpkin and mascarpone and lemon zest. Very important.

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{Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Pancakes}

I live in this really magical place called Los Angeles, California.

It’s a place where you have to pay, like, $2 for parking to go to the mall. Even if you don’t buy anything.

It’s a place where people sitting next to you at coffee shops are writing movies on their laptops. And then those movies get made, you see them in the theater, and it’s weird and wild.

It’s a place where palm tress aren’t native to the state, yet they fit in perfectly.

And it’s a place where you see Janice Dickason at the movie theater, dressed like she’s going to the Met Ball, with a man who’s six inches shorter and looks like he might own the state of California. Very normal.

Los Angeles is a place of make believe. So, when it’s the first day of fall and 90 degrees outside, it forces you to pretend it’s brisk out, or else you’ll get mad. Because all anybody wants to do on the first day of fall–myself included–is break out their new boots, scarves, hold hands with the boy they like and jump in a big pile of autumn leaves. Am I right, or am I right? I’m right.

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Yesterday, while cooking, I added some pepper to a bowl and sneezed. My friend Cassie, who was over at the time, paused and said, “Man, you make a very “interesting” face the moment just before you sneeze.” I’m pretty sure what she meant by “interesting” was “ugly.” So I started to think to myself, Are there other times when I look “interesting”? There must be!

Like, when I’m sleeping and my face just settles into dreamland, do I look unattractive? When I’m washing the dishes, in my own world, pondering what human name I’m going to give my future dog, does my face look unattractive?

And when I cry, do I have an ugly cry face like Kim Kardashian? (This, by far, is my favorite Kim K. moment. Actually, it’s more of Kourtney’s moment. I mean, the way Kourtney laughs at her? Incredible.) If Kim K. is the ugliest crier around, I’d like to nominate the prettiest. That award goes to Demi Moore in Ghost (skip to 1:39). Like, her eyes well up so perfectly, just the right amount of tears, before they overflow and fall so beautifully. Let’s all aspire to cry like that. UGH!

Anyway, surely the moment before sneezing can’t be the only ugly face I unknowingly make. When do you make your “interesting” face? It’s okay, don’t worry, we can’t look cute all the time.

Speaking of unattractive! This bread pudding. Bread pudding is bread pudding. It’s definitely not what I consider “pretty food.” When I pulled it out of the oven I took a look at it and was like, well let’s hope it tastes good. It did. OMG it did.

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Hi. I’m baaaaack.

I actually never left, but sometimes the one day breaks between posts make me miss you a lot. I can say this because we’ve moved past the whole newness in our relationship. I don’t care if I love you more at this point. It just is what is…you know?!

Wait, do you think it’s weird I’m talking about our relationship in public like this? Whatever. DEAL!

I feel like you know me pretty well at this point. You understand who I am as a person. You know I have an affinity for glitter nail polish. You know I cry sometimes and make pancakes. You know I think fantasy football is stupid. You ALSO know that I loooove to try and make stuff cute.

I made churros (that sometimes can look like…I don’t have to say it. You know)…into Churro Tots! And complicated pretzels into Pretzel Tots. And sloppy, meat sandwiches into Sloppy Joe Sliders! I’m starting to think my life calling is to take normal dishes that are totally minding their own business and give them a “cute” makeover.

Almost like that scene in Clueless when D and Cher take Ty from rough and stoner-like to cute and dumb. Just like that…but with sandwiches and fried things…and now, stuffing.

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I’m freezing. Are you freezing?! I know I’m being sort of a child when I say I’m freezing. And yes, I do realize that 50˙F is amateur freezing weather. But it’s cold. I’m cold.

I got the sniffles this past weekend. I ran into Jeff Goldblum (my childhood crush) as I was sniffling…with no make-up…in sweats…as I was walking through Whole Foods. This happens in Los Angeles from time to time. It’s usually famous people I could care less about. But this time…whoa. It was Jeff Goldblum. As I walked past him, he said hello to me (!!!), probably because I couldn’t stop smiling. I tried. I just couldn’t. So I said hi back and then promptly did one of those run-walks to hide in the flour aisle.

And then I just imagined him getting eaten by that T-Rex as he was sitting on the toilet…chanting. I’ve had a crush on him ever since. I do realize that I’m now on an official tangent..and I do understand that my “crushes” are confusing and random. But…back to being cold!!

So yeah, when we’re cold…soup is in order.

I’ve been making renditions of this soup for years. It comes from one of my favorite Ina Garten books, Barefoot In Paris. It’s full of beautiful simple, French recipes that are perfect for the cold chilly weather.

Wrap a blanket around yourself, put on some cute socks and let’s make some soup!

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