When I lived in Ditmas Park, one of my favorite Friday night activities was to order a giant burrito from either of the awesome Mexican places nearby (Cinco de Mayo and Los Mariachis, if you must know), and devour it on my bed, in my 'jammies, while sipping on a Sixpoint Sweet Action and watching Netflix. I realize it's not the most glamorous activity for a gal to engage in on a Friday night, but after an exhausting week of work, rubbing shoulders with strangers at some crowded bar is no longer my idea of a good time. Can I get a "hell yeah!" from my fellow . . .
It's been over one week of my new life in Syracuse, and if you get my newsletter, you already know that I survived the move and things are going a-okay so far. First off, we love our new house, which has a backyard and a washer-drier (luxuries for city folk like us); we've already planted a small vegetable garden - and done several loads of free laundry, in case you were wondering. Turns out, it's pretty nice to be away from city stresses like crowds and noise, and to be surrounded by trees and greenery on a daily basis. Touché, Central New York. One of the best . . .
Rene and I had just spent a gorgeous day at the beach - complete with fried calamari and ice cream at our favorite ocean-view shack - and were driving back to the campground to start prepping a communal dinner with 20 or so of his closest Polish family friends. We stopped at a little farm-stand on the road to pick up some produce. I wasn't sure what I wanted to contribute to the meal, but seeing as it's been bright hot all day, we were in the mood for a salad. On the shelves, I saw some plump orange tomatoes, ripe peaches and fresh corn, side by side. I bagged up a few . . .
There is a Russian potato salad called Olivye that is the single most commonly found food on any Russian celebration table. I am willing to bet there is not one living person of Russian or Ukrainian origin that can't name all the ingredients that go into this salad. They are: boiled potatoes and carrots, hard-boiled eggs, pickles, canned peas, and sometimes kielbasa or poached chicken. Everything is finely chopped into about quarter-inch cubes and dressed generously with mayo - the Russian answer to basically any kitchen conundrum. Salat Olivye (the name originates . . .
This past Monday I spent roughly four hours writing, cooking and photographing this recipe. Well, not exactly this recipe. I’ve been intrigued by savory pancakes lately and had a really specific version in mind. This fantasy pancake was sweet from sweet potatoes, funky from kimchi, and spiced with some of my favorite things, like garlic, ginger, scallions and soy sauce. It was ultimately topped with a runny egg and eaten with abandon. Mmm, food fantasies… anyone else have those? When I actually got to writing the recipe, I talked myself out of using sweet potatoes . . .
Alas, a new recipe! Boy does it feel awesome to share something new with the world today. If it seems like I've been absent for the past couple of weeks, it's because I have been; I've been toiling away to wrap up an unbelievably exciting cookbook project, the details of which I've still yet to share with you. It's been an emotionally intense two months - straddling the fine line between awe and excitement, and fear and nervousness. Here's the thing about developing recipes for a blog versus for a book. With blog recipes, the time between coming up an idea and . . .
I'm going to keep this post short and sweet since it's already Thursday, making this week's recipe three days late as is. If you follow me on Instagram, you may have caught that I spent last weekend in Puerto Rico for a friend's bachelorette party, so I'm still playing catch-up from having four days off. Puerto Rico exceeded all my expectations, and then some. Throughout the weekend, I got the mandatory white girl sunburn, ate my weight in mofongo with pernil, and lived out my teenage Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights fantasy of dancing sweaty salsa in a real salsa club . . .