The beginnings of Roasted Cauliflower Soup.
Last weekend I was able to attend the Sunday Suppers photography workshop with Aran Goyoaga. We spent the day in Karen’s beautiful space in Brooklyn, eating, shooting, and meeting some great people.
Stuffed Peppers with Quinoa
Sunday Homemade Ice Cream
The first eight months I lived in New York City I shared a small apartment with two other women I didn’t know. The kitchen was the smallest I’d ever used. We had a fridge, a microwave, and a stove. We did own an oven, too, but it had stopped working for some reason or another and no one cared enough to deal with getting a new one. It was most likely an unlit burner in the back. Simple. We still did nothing. I discovered our oven predicament one weekend when I tried baking a pizza that then took an hour to cook. That sort of tipped me off on that one. One of my roommates tried getting creative and “baking” on the stovetop, generally just ending in a fiasco. I stopped using ovens after that, even after I’d left the apartment for one with working-condition appliances. I suppose when you can’t use something you learn not to use it at all. It’s been almost two years since I moved into that first apartment and this is the first batch of homemade cookies I’ve made since. Pulling them out of the oven, I felt a sudden urge of pride, like I’d conquered the beastly wild and lived to tell.
Recipe: Chocolate chip cookies from Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything.
Matthew snapped these photos of me rolling out and cooking flatbread on my tiny countertop over the weekend. I suppose I’m reaching some new and cruel levels of insanity doing this while it’s upwards of 90 degrees outside. It is worth mentioning, however, that it at least tasted good.
I almost forgot about my birthday this year, but luckily remembered. Does that mean I’m officially that person, the one who doesn’t remember their birthday and is the same age for four consecutive years? Man, I hope not. Not yet atleast.
