Recipes

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Morning Routine, Chez Us

Plenti Oatmeal meets Greek Yogurt breakfast

 

Here is what happens in the morning: I wake up at exactly 7:06AM because there is a foot in my face. Then I hear my son’s voice “whispering” (not whispering) in my ear: “MOM. MAMA. MOMMMM. WAKE UP.” Then, from the other room: “MAMA BABAAAAAAA!” (Translation: Mom get me a bottle yesterday please and thanks.)

My children very obviously wake up with the word "BREAKFAST" ping-ponging around in their heads. Like, the first order of business better be food delivery, or things will get really real. Except there is one minor problem with this: In addition to being early risers, my children are also highly specific about what types of foodstuffs they like. Cereal, for example, is okay. Cereal with milk in it is VERY SERIOUSLY NOT.

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This Girl’s Going Gluten-Free

Gluten-free dishes on a beautifully set table

{ via }

Did I just blow your mind?

Let me put it at ease: the decision to eliminate gluten is not because I want to, exactly, and is also not permanent (unless, by some crazy twist of fate, I actually see some positive effects from this experiment) - it's because our doctor suggested that my husband do it, and I figure life will be easier for both of us if I do it, too, since I'm the one who does the majority of the cooking. (The kids get a pass, because they're kids and they get to eat pizza. And not, like, gluten-free "pizza"; like pizza. With bread in it.)

Recipes

Two-Ingredient Nutella Brownies For Your Valentine

Look at this gloriousness.

Confession: I totally went into this experiment expecting to end up writing a post about (another) epic baking fail. Because when I saw this recipe in People Magazine and noted that it contained exactly two ingredients - neither of which were butter or flour - I did not see how, exactly, the result would be brownies. I mean, maybe there are bakers out there who are more talented than me (all of them) who can work this kind of magic, but what I was picturing ending up with was basically Nutella Soup. Or maybe Blackened Husk Of Nutella. Something along those lines.

But not only did this 20-minute project result in brownies...it resulted in the best brownies that I have ever had in my life. They are better than my beloved Duncan Hines Family-Size Fudge Brownie Mix, and that is not a thing that I ever thought that I would say about any edible item on the planet. The best part is the taste, obviously - just sweet enough, with a hint of hazelnut - but what sets them apart from other brownies is the texture: so light it's almost spongy, almost like a mousse.

Recipes

The Everpresent Orange

Homemade orange infused vodka recipe

Today in Things That I Do That Make Very Little Sense: I take enormous, completely unfounded pride in our orange tree (you know, the one that I freaked out over when we first arrived at our new home).

When people come over, I announce to them, "Would you like an orange? Because we grow them ourselves. Did I mention that they're DELICIOUS?" I send people baskets of oranges and write "From our backyard!" on twee little cards. I make orange-flavored cakes, and make sure that anyone who's eating one is aware that it all that lovely orange-y flavor came from my very own oranges that are mine and that exist because I MADE IT SO. (I'm aware that this is obnoxious, and also that orange-growing is hardly cause for national celebration in California, but whatever, I'm from New York City and in New York City oranges are born in supermarkets, so this is all very thrilling to me.)

Let us now be absolutely clear: I had virtually nothing to do with the fact that this particular tree produces oranges, delicious or otherwise. In fact, I tried extremely hard via a refusal to water it (thanks partially to drought-related water restrictions but mostly to my own forgetfulness) to make sure that it never produced fruit again, and yet it persevered. It would be more accurate for me to take pride in the fact that my orange tree absolutely refuses to die.

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The Popcorn Problem

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).


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