Eh.

And then there are the days when you cook and cook and finally sit down to what should be a glorious dinner and say, “Eh.”

This happened yesterday. I had big cooking plans for my Sunday afternoon, as I often do. I try to cook a lot over the weekend—a goal that I have long aspired to but only recently achieved. Now that I have a toddler, it has become a necessity. Many days there simply isn’t time to cook between when we get home from work and daycare and when Little Z needs to fill her small but growing belly. A stash of leftovers is imperative.

Tartine Knockoff

I have now made a version of Chad Robertson’s Tartine bread twice. I say a version of because I still don’t actually have his book. I have requested it from the library, but the library is being very slow. Instead, I’m working off of this two page recipe that Robertson shared with Martha Stewart. Thank you, Martha!

Sour Dough: Michael Pollan's Whole-Wheat Country Loaf

I did a lot of cooking this past weekend. Over the two days, I made: Moroccan beef chili, couscous, roast chicken, scalloped root vegetables, braised red cabbage, chicken stock, eggless banana bread, and ginger bug (my latest science project, in which I try to catch wild yeast with ginger-sugar water, from which I intend to make ginger beer!).

Oh, and Michael Pollan’s Whole-Wheat Country Loaf. That’s right, people--my starter works! I successfully baked two loaves of whole wheat sourdough bread with it.

Anniversary Starter

Wednesday, October 2, 2013 marked 15 years since Nick and I kissed on our friend Jasmine’s back porch in Hyde Park, Chicago. We’ve been together ever since.

We had circled each other warily for nearly a year—dated, broke up, argued, kissed, avoided each other, hung out late and kissed again—and after a summer mostly apart, we were on an official date. Nick had declared his love and I had said I would go out with him. He was late to pick me up (he told me later that he almost didn’t come at all). We went to Jasmine’s party, but didn’t tell anyone we were on a date. We figured that it would probably end badly, again. On the way home, I threw up out of sheer nerves (I’d had about half of a drink). I guess I could tell that this was something big. Nick kissed me again, anyway. I know that doesn’t sound very romantic, but it truly was.

Anadama Bread

In which I explain the significance of Anadama bread, attempt, despite obstacles, to make it, and mostly succeed.

First Bake, First Write

Little Z in moby wrap.

Little Z was born April 7, 2012. That’s two weeks and one day ago, and today’s the first day I’ve baked since she was born.

I’m hot and tired and my back aches, but it feels good to perform such familiar tasks—ones from my life before Little Z. It makes me feel continuous, like a whole and single person, even though so much has changed now that I’m—wow, take a moment—a mother.

Thanksgiving comes early

Thanksgiving came early to our house this year.

It's all Jodi Foster's fault. She directed this totally charming movie called Home for the Holidays, which I like to watch every year around Thanksgiving. Last month I kept putting off watching my Halloween specials (Is it really Halloween without the Great Pumpkin?)--and as a result never got to watch them at all! 

So when the dark set in early last night (I hate hate hate it when Daylight Savings time goes away), I comforted myself with the movie equivalent of tryptophan, and started in on my Thanksgiving roster. For those interested, the rest of my Thanksgiving films include Hannah and Her Sisters, The Ice Storm, and The House of Yes. I would, by they way, love to hear any recommendations to add to my list.