When we were in 5th grade, my best friend Kristine went to visit her family in Japan.  Despite the agony of her being gone for two whole weeks (even though this was the year we were in separate classes, separate lunches, and separate recesses, and only saw each other long enough for a two-second wave in the hallway every day), it was well worth it when she brought back tons of photos, presents, and botan rice candy. The main thing I remember about botan rice candy was that it was wrapped in a piece of plastic, like most candy, but…

When I was a wee one, my parents used to take turns reading to my brother and me before bed.  Although my favorite memories are from when I was old enough to follow along with chapter books, I remember one particular storybook that was especially fun when my dad read it.  It was “Pancakes, Pancakes!” by Eric Carle: the epic saga of a young boy named Jack who really wants a plate of flapjacks for breakfast. Little Jack asks his mom for pancakes, but she is pretty busy (as most moms are on Saturday mornings), so she asks Jack to…

Sometimes life is just chock-a-block full of adventures… so much so that you either don’t have time to bake, or can’t seem to remember to bring the camera into the kitchen. Not to worry; I have another tasty post up my sleeve, which should be up in days flat.  But in the meantime, I offer a toast to new adventures– whether it’s turning a year old, or embarking on a brand new job. Cheers!  

Some days I just feel fancy.  Sometimes I wake up and make pancakes for breakfast, even though I’m the only one at home.  Sometimes I wear a dress and heels to work, even though jeans and flats are allowed.  And sometimes, though I know I’d be satisfied with a quick batch of tried-and-true muffins, I just feel like making a cake that I’ve never tried before… and whipping up some lemon curd while I’m at it. Lemon curd.  What an awful name for such a lovely food.  I hope you’ll forgive the off-putting moniker and give lemon curd a try,…

I’m going to let you in on a deep, dark secret.  When I was in grad school, in a program focused on nutrition, local food, good farming practices, and the like, I could not let any of my classmates know about this.  Maybe several of us shared this secret in common, but we couldn’t talk about it.  It was just too dangerous.  To admit this was to accept the risk of becoming an immediate pariah, viewed as a hypocrite and a traitor. Are you ready?  Here it is. I love junk food. I can’t help it.  Yes, I hate that…

  Conversation One “Thank you for calling [retail establishment] Men’s, this is Jesi.” “Yeah, I’m looking for a particular blouse in a size 4.  Can you tell me if you have it?” “Oh!  We’re actually a men’s store.  I can give you the number for women’s, if you like.” “But this is the number that was listed online.” “Yes, we’re two separate stores, but they only list the men’s number online.  I’m not sure why.  Would you like the number for women’s?” “Ughhh… I’ll just call back later.” “Ok… we’ll still be a men’s store.” Conversation Two “I once had…

Valentine’s Day was this week.  Were you aware?  If you have Facebook—and I find it highly unlikely that you’d have somehow found your way to my baby blog but not to Facebook—you probably found your news feed swarming with statuses berating V-Day for being a gimmick created by card companies to make money while also making people feel miserable. Truth be told, I kind of like Valentine’s Day.  Sure, it tends to be over-hyped and over-commercialized, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with setting aside a day in dull, drab February for a little silly sweetness. That being said,…

I lost my job recently.  I had been aware for a while that times were tough, that the economy was bad, that meaningful work was hard to come by… but there’s nothing quite like job loss to drive that point home. On the day I was let go, I came home, poured myself a glass of wine, drew a hot bath (and dropped in a Lush Butterball bath bomb), and sank in.  I’ve been at peace with my whole situation ever since that bath.  Naturally, it helps that I have parents who will not let me starve or end up…

According to Martha Stewart’s Cookies, “Children love these two-bite treats.”  Umm, what are you trying to say, Martha?  That there’s something childish about taking a perfectly good batch of cookies and sticking your thumb in each and every one of them?  That only kids would be interested in filling those thumb-holes with molten chocolate chips?  That, as an adult, I should skip these and bake your Raspberry Honey Financiers, Biscochitos, or Earl Grey Tea Cookies  instead?  (That, if I do make these kiddie cookies anyway, I should eat each of them in two separate bites?) Come to think of it,…

Let me be honest—this bread was the biggest pain-in-the-butt project I’ve taken on in a while.  Baking with yeast can be really fun, and thanks to the stop-and-go nature of it, it’s great to do while you’re also working on other things (like writing cover letters and applying for every job I can find).  But this one was challenging. I can guarantee that if you try this bread, your kitchen will be a floury, sticky mess in no time flat, and you’ll probably be peeling dried dough flakes off your hands for hours after you’re done.  That’s pretty typical of…

Don’t you hate it when you’re out and about, minding your own business, and you run into that one person you just did not want to see?  I imagine everyone has people like that in their lives: good people, probably, but… just not people you want to see or talk to.  At least not right now.  Right? Well, don’t you also hate the fact that you almost always run into these people when you look a mess?  Why did I have to be wearing my raggedy old coat that I’ve had since college and the snow boots that give me…

I don’t want to pretend that this is an age-old family dish that I’ve been eating as long as I can remember, or that it reveals some truth about my life and my past.  Sure, I grew up eating grits pretty regularly, and just the knowledge that grits are iconically Southern kind of made them part of my identity.  But cheese in grits didn’t happen too often in my house, and adding shrimp was not an option I even knew existed until recent years. I am so glad this dish came into my life.  It’s rich enough to feel like…

Quick!  Pop quiz. What is the best way to a woman’s heart? A. Flowers. B. Chocolate. C. A Teddy Dog. D. A chef’s torch and a bottle of butane. Ok, so the answer is technically “all of the above.”  Presents are sweet, no matter what they are.  But my boyfriend clearly answered the question with “D,” and he threw in four ramekins (those adorable dishes in which crème brûlée is served).  That’s why he’s awesome. I have big plans for this torch.  Lemon meringue pie.  Mac and cheese with torch-toasted topping.  Bacon sprinkled with brown sugar and caramelized with an…

How do you feel about raw seafood?  Yes, sushi is pretty tasty.  But that’s not what I meant… Say what you will, but nothing says comfort food to me like a dozen raw oysters on the half shell, with a tiny bit of of hot sauce dabbed on top.  Or maybe, if I’m really in the mood, two dozen… As anyone who has moved away from loved ones knows, the definition of “home” becomes blurry over time.  I frequently find myself referring to both my parents’ house and my own cozy apartment as “home,” even though the two are separated…

If you’ve taken a stroll around the internet recently, you’ve probably noticed that food is pretty hot right now.  Generally, I’d say people are always pretty keen on food, but these days, everyone’s talking about it.  Everyone has a food blog (or follows a few)—and good lord, have you SEEN foodgawker?  What with all this internet gluttony, it never occurred to me that my love for food really separated me from the public at large. But here’s the thing—I’ve been food crazy since the day I was born.  According to my mom, all that was required to get quart-sized baby-me (yes, quart-sized—I…