It was the last week of the year to buy bulk at the growers market from Zenger Farms, my fabulous CSA. Because my tastes fall fairly heavily on the savory side of the spectrum and because you don't typically eat canned peaches with chips, I decided to try my hand at salsa. Typically when I cook, I either start with a specific ingredient or an idea about what I want my end product to be. Then I look up anywhere from 3 to 10 recipes and pick and choose what I like and don’t l

I mentioned before that my sweetie is attempting to transform the grapes from my backyard into some kind of liquid libation that, if developed correctly, will stain our teeth and make us slightly dizzy (yay?). I planted the vines long enough ago that I have absolutely no idea what varietal they are, only that they’re very pretty (aesthetic sensibility drives many of my gardening choices) and are on a slow march to take over the world. My sole responsibility in this endeavor

Sometimes you make the mistake of waking up and weighing yourself. Then you're sad and you slam your coffee cup down too hard and scare your cats and feel generally bad about yourself and the world and are far more angry than normal at the commuters who don't turn on their blinkers before they hit their brakes. When a woman approaches you before your yoga class starts, you are gosh-darn-dagnabbit ready to bite her pretty little head off if she asks you to move your mat from

This will be the first of many posts in this vein. The end game here is that since I (lamentably) do not have unlimited funds at this juncture in my life, I will let YOU all know about every superfluous little thing I covet and then live vicariously through you when you buy it. You can crash in my guest room after you blow all of your money on inside-jokey Cafe Press t-shirts like this Dirty Dancing gem. I may or may not have one that says "The Babe with the Power." And by