WHISKY CARAMEL SUNDAE WITH BLACK PEPPER STRAWBERRIES

Cooking for a food blog takes a LOT of groceries. I’ve written about this before, but I never ordered groceries online until we started this site - I love doing my own shopping in person, but when I need to get seven recipe’s worth of food for one day, it can get heavy. Add in the occasional five-pound bag of flour refill and no car, and it’s a recipe (I’m not sorry) for an order from my couch.

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SPRING VEGGIE LEMON PARMESAN PASTA

Yesterday, I accidentally got sucked into reading about cults.

Yes, I know, the irony kills me too, but honestly reading about cults is just a deep dark hole on the Internet. And while I have no plans to join a cult any time soon, The New York Times and New York Magazine instilled a fear in me so real, I think I’ll be avoiding Kool-Aid and self-help anything for the rest of my life.

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CINNAMON NUTELLA CRUNCH PULL APART BREAD

I tend to go through phases with things. Like, intense super powerful phases where I listen to the same album or song over and over and over again, or re-watch the same show no matter how many times I’ve already seen it (this seems to run in the family, especially with How I Met Your Mother). I cannot get enough of this one particular thing, and so I don’t, until I feel ready to move onto the next thing.

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MEYER LEMON + THYME WHISKY SOUR

When Alyssa and I started this site, we cooked and photographed alone. It was the two of us, an insane amount of groceries ordered online, and a sometimes charged camera blogging in a true frenzy in my bedroom (it had the best light; welcome to New York apartments). Except for an occasional visit from a roommate to taste test or hand model, we were on our own.

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EXTRA CRISPY SPRING VEGGIE BIBIMBAP

There’s this blazer I’ve been stalking for months on the Internet.

Most people stalk their exes or that new hire at work who seems way too quiet, but I stalk blazers. One specific blazer to be exact. At regular retail, it’s well out of the price range I’m comfortable impulse buying at. But on sale - oh, on sale, it fits snugly in that range. Add some rewards points and I finally had myself a “click through to check out.”

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PUPPY CHOW POPCORN

There’s been a debate in my office about how to pronounce the word “orange.” The Midwesterners of the group (hi) pronounce it the correct way, “oh-range,” and the East Coasters (hi mom) say “ah-range,” which is blatantly incorrect. It’s caused quite a stir in our workplace proximity relationships.

Aren’t we fun?

Also, sorry mom.

Anyway!

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VEGETARIAN FRENCH ONION SOUP

I have to dedicate this post to my brother, Alex, who shares my boundless admiration for both French Onion Soup and John Mayer.

French Onion Soup was one of those treats my mom never exposed us to. I’m not totally sure if that was because of its richness or because she didn’t know how to cook it, but either way, I remember the day I had my first bowl vividly.

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CARAMELIZED ONION + FETA PUFF PASTRY TART

When I was in high school, I would spend entire winter vacations at our family friends’ house in Ann Arbor, about 30 minutes from where I grew up. Our parents were really close, and so it was only natural that me and their older daughter would become close as well. To this day we have zero idea how we became friends, and we have tried our absolute hardest to pinpoint the moment it happened. As of now, the assumption is we just woke up one day and, in a puff of magical smoke, we were friends.

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VEGAN MUNCHIES COOKIES

This past Tuesday, these two theater nerds saw Fiddler on the Roof in Yiddish. And it was glorious.

If you’ve had a chance to mosey on over to our ‘about’ page, you’ll know my favorite musical is Fiddler on the Roof. I don’t know if it’s the timeless tale of the old country, the heart-piercing songs about leaving home or the crazy on-the-nose Jewish humor, but something about that show gets me misty-eyed before the Overture is even finished.

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DOUBLE CHOCOLATE PECAN SLAB PIE

Happy 2019!

I still kind of can’t believe it’s already January. I know, I know, we all always say that, but I truly cannot believe it’s already the new year, AND it’s already winter, AND we’re already halfway through the school year.

Time snuck up on us so fast that we kind of forgot to post. Oops! Hence, pecan pie in January.

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MATBUCHA

Ah, 2019. Hello there! You snuck up on us rather quickly. We had plans! We had goals! We had holiday-themed posts! And all of that got lost in the end-of-year, pre-holiday chaos.

But yet, here you are. So, we will try to make a comeback. For our own sanities. Because we’ve missed you so much.

I’m not really one for “new year” hype. Too much pressure, too much buzz, too many people at the gym. There is one thing, however, that I’m super excited about. It’s a book.

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WHOLE ROASTED CAULIFLOWER

My entire family is either vegetarian or vegan; meat hasn’t made an appearance in my parents’ house since, like, maybe 2010. This makes mealtimes and restaurant choices extremely easy. Holiday menus that revolve almost exclusively around a giant bird that wasn’t lucky enough to receive a presidential pardon, though? Not so much.

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CRANBERRY HALVA BIG-CRUMB COFFEE CAKE

One of my best friends growing up was allergic to strawberries. Like my-throat-will-close-up, inject-me-with-epinephrin-now allergic. Her mom made me learn how to inject an Epipen since the two of us went to camp together and, well, you never know.

Thankfully, I’d never had to use that skill. But last Tuesday, I almost did.

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PURPLE POTATO KNISHES

We decided we wanted to make purple potato knishes six months ago.

Six. Months. Ago.

Six months ago I lived in a different apartment, with a different roommate, in a different bourough. I had a different job. I had a different life.

And yet. AND YET. These knishes haunted my dreams through it all.

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BUTTER-ROASTED PEAR + HALLOUMI SALAD

You never believe it till you hit it, but being in your twenties is like free falling without a parachute. For whatever reason, when you’re a kid and a teen and even in college, you imagine you’ll have everything sorted out once you’re in your twenties. I blame TV for this, mostly. Twenty-something sitcoms are notoriously inaccurate. But they do get one thing right - something you completely neglect to appreciate until you’re chin-deep, flailing about the most confusing decade of your life thus far.

You find comfort in the oddest places.

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PUMPKIN LEEK SOUP WITH GRILLED CHEESE CROUTONS

My partner and I run on completely opposite schedules. I wake up at around 7:00 each morning to get ready for work and ease into my day, while he stays burritoed for a few more hours. By the time I get home from work, anywhere from 7:15 to 9:00 or later, he’s already well on his way to a gig. Once he’s home, I’m the burritoed one.

Now that we live together we see each other a bit more than we used to, but not by much. What to do? Stuff a week’s worth of dates into one Sunday. Normal!

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COLORFUL KALE SALAD WITH TOMATILLO DRESSING

I never thought I’d consider getting a haircut an oddly intimate experience. Intimacy is reserved for people you’ve dated, family members, a handful of good friends. Probably a doctor or two. Maybe, the woman who gives you bikini waxes. But never hair stylists. Or so I thought.

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GARLIC SCAPES GREEN GODDESS DIP

Today, I saw Bradley Cooper in the NYC wild.

What normally would have been a typical Wednesday with great weather, quickly became a glorious afternoon. I can’t take credit for the first sighting, though. My assistant saw him first. Obviously, the most logical next step would be to grab the nearest coworker and go get a coffee from the cafe next door to Bradley’s lunch spot. We certainly weren’t what I’d call covert, but we mastered the slow-walk and side-eye.

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VEGAN BLACK BEAN SWEET POTATO QUESADILLAS

I successfully made it through 5 years of living in New York without a mouse problem. Sure, there were the pantry moths and that teeny-tiny roach infestation in my building and a rogue “what the FUCK IS THAT” every once in a while, but as far as I knew, I had gone through my life here without a single Mickey or Minnie in sight.

Until last week.

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