Before me I have a plate with three of these pizza slices. For once I’m camped at my dining table, a phenomenon occurring maybe twice a year. I have a peripheral view of my balcony, outside of which gleams reflections of the midday sun twinkling off the leaves as a light dry breeze pulls dry bits of fall, or wishful fall, through my neighborhood. That’s today’s Tampa weather forecast. Hope you enjoyed it, like you hopefully will enjoy this pizza. Continue reading “autumn pizza: creamy chevre, caramelized onions + butternut squash, honeycrisp apple & sage”
Emotionally messy – a series of moods coalescing with the week I traversed St. Petersburg. No mighty minotaur skewered the brain cells, really. I merely slipped on one of those tangles of anxiety which will only recede when dealt multiple uppercuts of patience, persistent patience. I find that leaving town can sometimes relieve both those symptoms and the general jitters of wanderlust. I’m settling into a pattern of weekly local explorations and this acquaintance is a welcome one. St. Pete. Next week, who knows. But it’ll be a lick of freshness. Continue reading “photobook | dali museum + demens landing park + intermezzo”
Stagnancy burns my soul. My bones and muscles physically hurt when I’ve sat/lied too long in bed or elsewhere. I’ve noted that the aches of stillness versus of movement feel so different. The former manifests as an itch, twitching restless leg syndrome, internal bouncing. The latter is deeper, satisfactory. DOMS which raises endorphins and cravings for more miles. Broaden these feelings to my unquenchable desire to explore, local or a little less local, Tampa or Orlando, a cruise across I-4 or a north-or-south set of turns down exits. Just get me in a driver’s seat, and I’m happier.
I don’t claim to be an expert on hosting, or laying a table, or homemaking in general. But as with any art, a delicate eye and a willingness to practice until your hands and soul are raw yields improvement. So I started small with supper audienced by merely my mom and myself, as good a company as I need.
Pride. A word of many denotations. Merriam-Webster cites three (four, if you count a pack of lions as one definition). Though a negative light oft gleams over its place in the dictionary, a swell of pride in oneself cements feelings of self-worth, something from which a good many of us can benefit. Myself included.
Continue reading “Lavender + Dark Chocolate Chip Coconut Oil Cookies”
I am hardly a poet. I am too clumsy with rhyme schemes and too impatient for iambic pentameter. Baking is a poetry I’m okay with pursuing. I can mess up. I can crisp everything black and watch it crumble beneath my fork into wispy ashes. Words, I do not like to burn. Poetry is one thing I leave to the masters. Continue reading “Prep + Poetry | Quick & Sweet Rum Butter Pecan Egg Tartlets”
Today involved a checklist of adult responsibilities, ticked off, followed by time for creating and baking, a few hours in which I relished the childlike pleasure of getting my hands dirty.
The martini: James Bond may have popularized the the shaken (not stirred) cocktail classic with his famous order, but the story starts in a place named Martinez. Or so the story goes. Continue reading “A Brief History of the Martini, by Word of (Ver)Mouth”
Sweeten up your summer BBQ with a light, fruity sangria based on the tangy notes of navel orange and supplemented with a hint of smooth coconut rum and sparkling grape juice. Continue reading “Red Sangria with Navel Orange and Coconut”
Some vacations assume a more culinary focus – in my book, the food and drink of a city, region, or entire country offers an important glimpse into the culture, and a charm which cannot be obtained outside of its borders. Germany fit snugly into such a mold during my three-day tour of Hannover and Hamburg. Continue reading “German Food-iday”