Somehow, I’ve managed to avoid all conversations related to snowmaggedons, polar vortexes, and solar vortexes. And yet, I could feel it coming. Th...
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Back in the early days of blogging, links were the best way to discover new sites, content, and voices around the Internet. Everyone seemed to hav...
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I have a confession to make. With this brilliant Indian Summer we've had, I've missed one thing, and it's truly a surprise: cold, rainy, windy day...
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Dear Amy, I'm sorry I never published your poetry in our literary magazine because I said it was full of cliches. I was the gatekeeper and what I ...
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Everything starts anew. Year after year that I live in San Francisco, I am reminded that the fog will roll in right around my birthday. And I will...
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The thing about pie is it's quite mysterious until you cut into it. Unlike a tart, which openly reveals its identity upon first glance, a pie only...
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*serves four 1 heaping cup of cored and halved strawberries 1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon of sugar 1 green cardamom pod* 1/2 cup of heavy whippi...
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Winter fruit hardly excites me. I do love pears, and apples are good only when they are REALLY good, but other than that, I find winter to be the ...
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I’ve reached the stress baking portion of quarantine. I haven’t quite made it to the sourdough starter and bread-baking stage. Nor have I inve...
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Weekends are the longest and shortest days when you are a parent. Especially during summer days in the PNW that feel both beautifully and painfull...
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When you live in California, sometimes you feel hours behind everyone else. Weirdly, we watch a recording of the ball dropping in Times Square on ...
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If there is one thing you need to know about my husband it is that he loves his coffee, dare I say, as much as he loves his music. And because tod...