I have this problem:
I eat so much microwave popcorn.
It's kind of my thing; I'm very weird and hoarder-y about it and extremely particular about how much butter and salt goes on it. I eat it in highly specific little ways, like nibbling off the tiny bits around the center first. In my very weakest moments, I also have been known to apply a dose of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter (I'm aware that this stuff is essentially one big chemical, but I can't help it because it is DELICIOUS).
Two of my favorite things: puzzles + cooking memoirs
I remember the first book of Ruth Reichl's I ever read - it was Tender at the Bone, in theory a memoir but really an expression of her passionate belief that your meals (and the making of them) shape who you are in a very tangible way, starting even in the earliest parts of childhood. I loved it so much that I read her other books as soon as they came out: first Comfort Me With Apples, then Garlic and Sapphires, about her stint as the New York Times' food critic and all the subterfuge and drama (really) that job entails. Now I'm on to her latest, My Kitchen Year, about the shuttering of Gourmet when she was the magazine's editor-in-chief and her subsequent depression.
I don't always love Ruth Reichl - she can get a little treacly - but I can't stop reading her. And the biggest reason why I go back to her, over and over again, is the recipes; she essentially pioneered the memoir-peppered-with-recipe format that's so popular today. Granted, the recipes I've made from these books haven't always been the best ones on the planet - the matzoh brei was, in a word, a disaster - but when I'm reading her descriptions of how a dish didn't just exist in her life, but explained it somehow, giving her something that she hadn't even known she needed, I'm always desperate to try it for myself.
Presenting: my grocery list for yesterday's trip to Whole Foods.
What. Is going. On.
I mean, kale? Almond milk? HEMP SEEDS? Who is this person, and what has she done with the cheese-puff-loving me I have come to know and tolerate? (Nothing, actually; I just eat organic Trader Joe's cheese puffs now. And I eat them for breakfast, so there.)
If you liked the images in today's Pinterest post - and I'm assuming you probably do, because Pinterest says they are perfect and Pinterest is always right - I poked around on the Internet to find some similar furnishings, each and every one of which I am presently lusting after in a big way.
(Absolute favorite piece is that southwestern CB2 rug. Augggggh love it.)
Pinterest's primary function in my life is to make me realize that I am wildly inadequate in virtually every area of my existence. Mostly in my ability to artfully light and photograph my dinner, but I have also learned that many, many things about me are lacking, from my nail polish application skills to my window treatments to the fact that I persist in buying Ben & Jerry's rather than churning my own mixed-berry frozen yogurt in a crate that I hand-crafted from toothpicks, pom poms and dreams.
But another thing that Pinterest has taught me is actually quite a lot about home decor. I've always been a big believer in letting your freak flag fly when it comes to your home, filling it up with things that aren't just "pretty," but remind you of the places and people and things you love the most - that have actual stories - but still: sometimes it helps to take a step back, examine what's around you, and look for the simple little fixes that can make an enormous difference.
Let's discuss.
