My junior year in Tel Aviv was the first time I had a kitchen of my own. Apart from the summer spent in an absorption center in Ashdod while volunteering on ambulances (whose kitchen consisted of a sad hot plate, a sad counter and a sad toaster oven), that was the first time I had a space to cook for myself. And what did I do to inaugurate this life's milestone?
Ate nothing but hummus and cucumbers on toast.
Read MoreHow many of you are watching (or have already finished) The Handmaid's Tale?
It's excellent, but very troubling to watch. Even though I've devoured the book twice in my lifetime, the TV version shook me deeply. I'll be the first to admit that I'm a baby when it comes to dark TV shows and movies. When I saw Get Out I half-covered my eyes with my jacket during any scene that maybe contained a jump-scare. I freaking hate jump scares.
Read MoreThere's this magical eatery in Metro Detroit called Leo's Coney Island. A humble little place where you can get the most delectable Greek salad. A place where your thighs stick to the vinyl booths in the summer, but you JUST DON'T CARE because even if their fries are a little bland, there's nothing that can't be fixed by a smothering of their world (read, Detroit) famous Greek dressing.
Leo's is the reason that "Greek salad" has been my favorite food since I turned 6. I remember learning that "real" Greek salads don't have lettuce, and almost bursting into tears. You may think I'm exaggerating, but I haven't met a Greek salad that gives me more joy than Leo's. Since college. I've spent countless hours trying to replicate their infamous dressing. Too garlicky. Too little oregano. Too much vinegar. Not enough Dijon. I got close once, playing around with this (pretty damn delicious) recipe from Cookie + Kate. I finally resolved that I'll never duplicate the dream that is Leo's.
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