At times I wonder if you’re into crock pots like I am. Honestly I’ve held back a bit so as not to scare you off. See, I own…..wait for it….. 3 crock pots. Whew, that’s a load off. What’s more is I often use all three simultaneously. That’s right. Main course, side and dessert all served in crock pots for the masses.
Have the dieting blues? Does eating healthy seem like a never ending tasteless concoction after another? I got you. The same thing happened to me when I first learned my daily ice cream habit might not be as good for me as I hoped it was. I switched completely over to “healthy” food and found myself missing classic dishes like enchiladas, chicken pot pie and waffles. I thought to myself, “This is what life is now. Grilled chicken and steamed veggies for the rest of my days….”
Summer heat has me trying to make every dish a cold one in my kitchen. This girl does NOT like to heat up the kitchen when it’s over 100° outside everyday. Honestly, I feel like my face could actually melt when I go outside so why would I turn my kitchen into the same hot mess? Relief is on the way. I’ve created homemade vanilla ice cream. And you don’t need an ice cream maker. Continue reading Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream
I had this thought. What if everything we are trying so hard to reach isn’t as important as what we can touch right here, right now? Perhaps our goals become distractions keeping us from the real gem staring in front of us, begging for a cherry lime popsicle promising not to get sticky-again. Continue reading Cherry Lime Popsicles
Bring out the sparklers, Independence Day is nearly here. As I kid we used to drive to see the big fireworks in nearby cities. I remember lying on the grass looking up at the dark sky getting illuminated with the brightest colors. Sometimes it felt like I needed sunglasses just to keep watching the show. Do you remember the boom? If you’ve ever sat on the ground to watch the show, you can feel the boom from underneath you. It’s like nothing I’ve experienced before. Kinda like these red white and blueberry popsicles. Continue reading Red White and Blueberry Popsicles
When I was young there was this unspoken system. In place for hurts, sickness and sorrow. A system that never needed an explanation. Someone down the road went through something. Perhaps a death in the family, or horrible illness that confined them to stay in. Even for young moms recovering from the birth of their new baby. We knew what to do. Get in the kitchen. Bake up some muffins, toss a salad and cook a chicken pot pie. Food is healing on so many levels.
I’m not gonna lie. This dish is inspired by where I want to be right now. I’d very much like to be in Hawaii, Jamaica, Bermuda – any tropical island really. Sitting at an outdoor restaurant ordering this island sticky rice as I sip on a piña colada. Looking out at the horizon, watching the waves roll in. No concerns past which swim suit I’ll wear tomorrow. Letting the breeze wash over me and sand stick between my toes.
Sometimes I feel like Olaf from the cartoon “Frozen”. I love warm hugs and summer! To me, summer is lounging around in tank tops, sun bathing and oversized hats. My kids are the same way, except they prefer summer with popsicles in hand the sprinklers on in the backyard. To them, that’s summer. I can’t say I disagree one bit.
Everyone needs a Mimi. Someone who isn’t exactly related by blood, but becomes family by default. Someone who will play on the floor building race tracks and wooden towers to be knocked over by the large and in charge toddler. She doesn’t mind making messes in the kitchen and could spend an entire afternoon following a child who’s following the chickens.
This recipe has been stuck in my brain for a long time now. Sometimes getting an idea from my head to paper and then to reality is the hardest part. I like to think it will be easy, but in a lot of ways creating a recipe is like designing something I haven’t seen before. Creating out of nothing. Looking at raw potatoes and telling them one day they’ll look like a delicious side dish everyone will rave about. I realize that sentence sounds like I talk to my food. Perhaps I shared too much. Dairy Free Potato Salad is something I’m very proud of, even if it did mean talking to a few potatoes to get there.