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 . . .
When I first moved into my current neighborhood, living down the street from Cafe Madeline was one of the things I was most excited about. A killer coffee shop and breakfast/lunch cafe, Madeline is a central meeting hub of the Ditmas Park area. They brew Toby's Estate coffee, have an ogle-worthy pastry counter with these fluffy, several inch-tall croissants, and serve an all-day menu that runs about 80 items deep (not exaggerating); it consists of every type of breakfast sandwich and toast you can imagine, grain bowls and salads, savory oatmeals, and a ton of egg . . .
You guys, have you heard of ‘hygge’ yet? Pronounced hoo-gah, and loosely translated from Danish to “a sense of comfort, togetherness and well-being,” the concept has recently started to gain popularity outside of Denmark. My personal obsession began when I learned about The Little Book of Hygge (William Morrow, 2017), written by the CEO of the Happiness Research Institute in Copenhagen – a guy I suspect knows a thing or two about well-being. Ever since getting my hands on this book, not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about this funny word. Hygge is, . . .
Goooood morning, world! While many of you are undoubtedly still in bed basking in the glow of today's federal holiday, I have been hard at work for several hours working on the download of my very first e-cookbook! (There is no rest for the self-employed). I am so freakin' excited to share this e-book with you. This is a project I've been working on for several months and I must say, I'm pretty thrilled with the result. The idea for the book came from my desire to share the tips, tricks and recipes I've picked up over the years on the topic of - you guessed it - . . .
"A woman can make a salad, a hairstyle and an argument out of anything," is my mom's favorite Russian Mom saying. I realize how it may seem a biiit sexist (Russian moms are typically what we call "traditional"), but the way she sees it, it's definitely a compliment. It's usually her reaction when she's impressed with me MacGyver-ing something in the kitchen or around the house, and it always puts a smile on my face. On a somewhat recent weeknight when my roommate and I were too exhausted to think up an actual recipe and go buy the ingredients, I put together . . .
Lenivie vareniki is a classic Ukrainian recipe that I completely forgot about until a recent visit to, out of all places, an Italian restaurant. This year for my birthday, I had dinner with my family at this awesome place in my neighborhood called Lea. Lea churns out killer wood-fired pizzas - the kind with a little charring around the edges and minimal toppings to help the beautiful chewy dough stand out (my favorite!) - as well as creative pastas and thoughtful vegetable sides. Seeing as we were a hungry party of 6, we were able to taste more than half of the . . .
[Warning: political opinions below. If you're not in the mood, please scroll down to the photos for today's recipe.] As a Ukrainian immigrant, I’ve always felt lucky to be an American citizen. No matter how poorly organized our healthcare, how half-baked our higher education or how biased our criminal justice systems may be, living in America comes with a certain degree of safety. Of course, there may still be plenty of racists and misogynists, but at least in recent history we’ve been able to count on a president that is – as a bare minimum – politically correct. . . .