Archives for posts with tag: summer

I want every day to be just like this Sunday: chatting with Madeline over bowls of coffee whilst picking at beautiful French pastries, waltzing down to the market, grabbing my weekly bouquet, seeking out the sunniest little tomatoes, buying a weird little heirloom melon just to have an excuse to chat with the beautiful farmers market boy about the change of the seasons, going to four hours of heartfelt yoga, then, at the end of it all, making dinner with Logan, sweet sisterfriend. I want every day to be a Sunday.

Yoga and food have been my two true loves for a while, but Yoga and I just made it official. Come May, I’ll be a real-live yoga girl, certified to teach downward doggies the world over. After a false start this January (mistakenly signed myself up for semi-hot yoga training…there’s a reason I moved away from constantly-90-degrees-Florida…) I’ve embarked upon a nine-month training adventure with my beyond-beloved studio, Yogalife. And it is great. And big. And… big! Life is full. Life is good! Life is Sundays.


The amount that I work out has a direct relationship to the amount of ice cream I eat. Direct, not inverse. Running and yoga-ing, not part of a complete health package with lots of kale and brown rice, no. Just the necessary offset of a fancy ice cream addiction. Last week, a scoop of Molly Moon’s Scout Mint (aka, Thin Mint) with sprinkles. This weekend, an awe-inspiring pale green scoop of pistachio gelato on a cone, devoured while people watching on Ballard Ave. Yesterday, a scoop of mint stracciatella while my nanny charges were at swim team. They swim, I eat.

Other goods at the Queen Anne Farmers Market: a blueberry biscuit (saved for an addition to a picnic for an outdoor concert tonight), three pounds of apples (the apple addiction lives on), four yellow tomatoes (best color of tomato, fer sure), a bunch of teeny carrots, and multiple samples from anyone who’d give them to me and/or didn’t noticed I’d come by to sample peaches fourteen times. Then dinner on the lawn: naan with apricot-y chicken and rice, shrimp and grits, and ginger beer. Yum. And I’m at “work” during all of this, mind you.

Then, real dinner. Finally: Paseo. Mega-beloved Seattle Carribean/Cuban sandwich joint, which I’ve somehow never been to. I’ve stood in line and bailed many times, but never actually eaten a stinkin’ sandwich at the place. So finally. Paseo. I was doubtful that these West Coasters could beat the Florida Cuban sandwich, that flat, weird, mustardy, ham-packed delicious thing, but… maybe so. Very different: a delicious baguette filled with giant hunks of roasted pork shoulder, lettuce, cilantro, jalapeno, and mayo. Very messy, very good. Pros: the bread and pork were stellar. Cons: too much mayo (but I’ve never been a fan) and not enough jalapenos (but I am on the hot sauce crack rock.) Genia and I scored a table, which made it all the better; our sandwiches were definitely improved by the hungry, jealous stares of the dozens of people queuing up outside.

Somehow this house has become a banana graveyard. “Somehow” meaning I definitely think “Oh, I like bananas!” and buy a bunch EVERY time I go to the store. Regardless. There are a lot of aged once-yellow fruits slouching around on all the counters. So I did what any sensible person would do. Made muffins! I’ve been in a muffin mood lately. Actually. always.

Muffins rock. Not the mammoth ones encrusted with strudel at coffee stands though, those are just an affront to the real muffin community. The fat-laden Costco ones aren’t legit either, though they are so horrifically, diabetes-inducingly good. Real muffins are sweet but not very. Just sweet enough to be satisfy the morning sugar need. Don’t act like you don’t want at least a little sugar hit in the AM, you dedicated muesli eaters out there (You know who you are.) So this perfect muffin is just sweet enough, and a dense little baked good. Far denser than say, cake. Closer to banana bread, but not quite there in terms of densitometry (HA, wow, that is a real word. Probably not often used in terms of muffins.) And a little bit of fruit to justify it as a balanced breakfast is always a big plus. And today’s batch was just hitting it out of the park on all these fronts. Kinda followed these dudes recipe, but I’ve become extremely… flexible with my recipes. (Read: sloppy.) Did a little more banana than they said, used 1/2 brown sugar (as always), vanilla soy milk, and a big handful of oats. And… darest I reveal my new favorite thing? My super secret trick of the week? I’ve been putting pumpkin pie spice in everything. (Pancakes, applesauce, etc.) It is dang good. Why not really? Makes everything just a tiny bit nuttier, spicier, better. In sum: gooooood muffins. Plus the first sunshine in weeks, my friend SD and I sat on the deck and ate muffins and it was lovely. (Notice lake in the background? Lake, blueberry banana oatmeal muffins, sunshine, jealous homies?)

Moving on. Stew. So, in my mind there’s this SOUP–STEW spectrum, based on water content. This stew was kind of like how you imagine a F1 speedometer… way off the one end flickering around in some unidentified badland. It was really, really thick. I don’t know why. Yes I do. I didn’t follow a recipe and I don’t know how to make stew. Whatever, it was good. I gawked a bunch of stew recipes, gleaned what I thought was STEW 101 and forged onward. Big ol’ mama pot, cook some bacon, take it out, cook some meats, take it out. Caramelize onions in bacony goodness, add carrots celery garlic rosemary thyme. Pour in a bunch of red wine and beef stock. Cook it for a while. Put in some potatoes. Realize you have a pot of beef-flavored vegetables. Frantically add more liquid. Too liquidy. Google “thicken stew.” Mash up a bunch of flour and butter, drop it in. Stew thickens. Goodness ensues. It was real tasty an’ all… I just don’t know where all that liquid up an’ ran off to.

Yes, I take pictures of everything on the deck.