The creeping vine has begun to reveal a bright, blazing red. The blankets linger on the couch in the darkness of the mornings, tossed aside after cuddling in the evening’s chill. Soups and ciders have begun to be appealing again, and the bed has doubled with the thickness of comforters and quilts. It’s fall, but my mind keeps wandering back… Keep Reading
We drove through the streets of Philly with the immediacy of a getaway car. We were not, however, escaping. We were on the hunt for a very specific purveyor of bánh mì. Some people cook big batches of food on Sunday (like this grain bowl). Others, like my longtime friend Heather, buy enough banh mì to ruin the structural integrity of a plastic… Keep Reading
Inspired by a sandwich I ate at Burgh’ers (www.burgherspgh.com), this fried chicken has a crunchy, whole grain batter and a pickle flavor in every bite! As a way to conserve more, I used leftover liquid from a jar of store-bought, organic pickles, but you can also experiment making your own brine.
“I knew you must be special,” she said, “because he told me he had a new ‘lady-friend.’” I beamed back at her, like an idiot, imagining the Urban Farmer telling his mama about me. Then I gushed on and on about our first encounters, the butterflies, the impatience, the will in my heart for the universe to make our paths… Keep Reading
If life imitates art, some of my life is starting to imitate Groundhog Day. I sit at the same table, at the same coffeeshop, writing, editing photos, trying not to hunch my neck and shoulders into Quasimodo-esque subluxations, while listening to the baristas’ same rotation of old country classics and modern grunge. Sometimes, routines can be comforting. Sometimes, routines can be lazy…. Keep Reading