If I were to write a book about my time here in Syracuse, I would call it "Everything Is Ice." Because it is. I wouldn't say it's brutally cold because that word should probably be reserved for places higher up north - like Canada - but, the temperature is rarely above freezing and it has not stopped snowing since mid-December. At first, it was cute. Staying in all weekend long, watching the snowflakes dance outside, cooking through gorgeous cookbooks, and cozying up on the couch with whatever I'd just made. But by now it's gotten old - way old - and I find myself . . .
I’m thrilled to partner with Wicked Joe, an organic and fair trade coffee company, to bring you this story and recipe. Thank you for supporting the brands that support The New Baguette! When we’re young, we tend to think of Love with a capital L as a collection of grand gestures. Falling in love at first sight with a stranger in a coffee shop. The heartfelt proclamation of love. A passionate embrace under the stars. There’s a prince, a horse... Anyway, you know the deal. But fairy tales rarely tell us what happens after - the six months, one year, or five years . . .
Have you noticed how the popularity of "bowls" has skyrocketed in the recent years? I'm not referring to the bowl as the round, high-sided vessel - I'm talking about the "bowl" as a type of food. We're consuming sooo many bowls these days. There's the grain bowl, the kale bowl, the burrito bowl, the poke bowl, the soba noodle bowl, the acai bowl, the chia pudding bowl, and don't even get me started on the smoothie bowl - now there's a food that tries too hard to fit in... a smoothie belongs in a glass! And despite the enormous number of meticulously plated smoothie . . .
When I was a kid back in Ukraine, my family and I lived in a communal apartment - a kommunalka, as it was called. This phenomenon was a response to the housing crisis of 1900's Soviet Union. One communal apartment could house two or more entire - often multi-generational - families. Each family would be given a room, which would serve as their bedroom-slash-living room. The entryway, kitchen, and bathroom would be shared by everyone in the apartment, and all the rooms were connected by long, dimly-lit corridors. You can think of it like a college dorm, but way less . . .
One of the things I miss about having a "real" job where I go to the same office with the same group of people every day is that collective experience of the winter holidays. It all starts with the annual holiday party where you probably drink a little too much and maybe get to know a certain side of that certain coworker you didn't really want to know. It continues into the next day when you all schlep in late, with dark circles under your eyes and bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches in tow. Nothing gets done that day. Then there's the desk-side chats with your . . .
The end of this month will mark six months of life here on planet Syracuse. Six months - half a year. How insanely bananas is that? How time flies. Although the big move meant temporarily separating from my beloved city and my family and friends, it did grant me some things I never had before - like access to nature (which, it turns out, I quite like!), being able to afford a co-working space, and a washer and dryer inside our house, which is nothing short of a game-changer. Since the arrival of the infamous Syracuse snow that blankets the city every December . . .
I'm thrilled to partner with Lillet, one of my favorite French brands, to bring you these festive holiday recipes. Thank you for supporting the brands that support The New Baguette! Around this time last year, Rene and I were gearing up for a three-week holiday in Europe - first Poland, where I’d meet dozens of his family members, then France, where we’d be staying with my family in Paris and with his in Marseille. For a diehard Francophile like me, being in France feels like going back to the mothership, to create new memories and collect inspiration in the . . .