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.
Fourth of July is on it’s way. Fireworks, sparklers, BBQ’s, and swimming pools. Sunscreen melting into my skin and flip flops slapping beneath my feet. Beach balls that inevitably get holes in them and watermelon slices by the dozen. That’s no exaggeration either. My whole family is crazy for watermelon and we eat it the way one eats popcorn in the movie theater. Somehow it all disappears without anyone wanting to acknowledge how. Penne pasta salad disappears almost as fast.
Embracing chaos. Some might say it’s insanity. Others call it their daily routine. I’ve found it to be similar to riding my favorite roller coaster. ALL DAY. It is exhilarating and slightly nauseating. Lately life has been chaotic. I’ve found myself wishing for simple while simultaneously causing complicated. I’m okay with some areas of my life staying chaotic, but dinners aren’t one of them. Sitting around the table and enjoying a meal together is so important to me. I also love eating real food. If you’ve been here for any length of time you know I have a small fetish for turning classic dishes into healthy ensembles. That’s why today, I proudly bring you gluten free ravioli. Possibly the best thing I did last week. My kids and husband are still raving about it. They want it added to the regular menu, and I completely agree.
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.
I always imagined the sort of people who make beautiful cakes like this gluten free rainbow cake must have paparazzi following them around all day. Talent like this? Surely everyone is trying to get a snap of her in her real life. Well I made this cake. Not once, but MANY times to get it just right for y’all. Do you think I have people trying to get my attention all day?
I’ll be the first to admit drinks are not my area of expertise. I can bake, cook and sometimes clean. Okay, I clean a lot but my house rarely reflects it. Making drinks however is an entirely new realm to me. I love a challenge! This week’s challenge is Pomegranate Margaritas. Continue reading Pomegranate Margaritas
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.
This week I took on a new challenge. Barbequing dinner. The main, the two sides, all on the BBQ. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t something I avoid. It’s just that whenever we grill outside, my husband is conveniently home and willing to cook. One of those “things” my other half just does and I’ve therefore never tried on my own.