Pumpkin everything. Pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin cheesecake, pumpkin pie, pumpkin every which way.
That is the style of October, amirite? I’ve been thinking a lot about pumpkin these days, and desserts. I’m pretty sure it’s my bodily reaction to want more dessert and soup once the weather dips below 65. It’s all nature’s game plan.
We’re hurling toward November. How did this happen? I want October back! This week includes meeting some deadlines, figuring out (finally!) want Amelia is going to be for Halloween (maybe a banana?), and more recipe brainstorming. There’s a holiday at the end of this month and I need to be prepared so you can all be prepared, you dig?
Hello my cute, internet friends! Yesterday I got an email from a friend I went to college with telling me that she has a friend whose son is being teased a lot at school for liking to bake. And I thought, how odd! Don’t kids love cupcakes and sweet stuff?! What kind of world do we live in?! Monsters, I tell you.
It made me think about my own childhood…I’m pretty sure a lot of us were teased at one time or another, some more than others. One of my best friends was openly gay from the time he was 12, and growing up in the South, he had no friends at all. I remember when we became friends, in our first year of college, he told me I was his first friend. He was 18. I remember crying when he told me that.
Being teased can make you feel so isolated, so super awful and it can make your world feel like a terrible place to live in. We have such thin skin at that age–and even now I can still be pretty sensitive. I imagine, as a parent it puts you in a peculiar position, too, because what do you do? You can’t yell at a ten year old for being mean to your kid, though I’m not sure I’d be above this seeing as I’m a super CRAZY dog mother at the dog park.
Last week we had a very brutal and random heatwave where it decided to be 90˙F(!!!). I had a literal and figurative meltdown that day. It was bad. But now the cold weather is here and I’m back to being stoked on life.
It makes me super grateful that we live in a world where hot weather takes a break–and allows us to stop sweating–and cold air enters. And I’m glad sweaters exists, and dogs with wrinkly faces exist, and, AND soup exists! Rad.
I love punk’n. Are you all punk’n-ed out? Hope not. It’s only October, guys. We’ve got a solid more month of this stuff.
I know most people like sleeping, but I really really love it. I don’t like sleeping for long periods of time (hello headaches), but the sleep I do get is heavenly. I wake up sometimes wishing I could repeat the sleep.
Like, I wish I could go back in time to midnight and do the whole thing over again. Which is sort of ironic, considering I fall asleep at midnight dreaming about the next morning cup of coffee.
I lay my head down on my pillow and can literally hear the sound of the coffee pouring out of my chemex and into my mug. I’m a weird human, I understand.
Despite my sleep-loving attitude, I’m not particular about pillows. I don’t need fancy pillows, goose-down pillows, thempur-pedic pillows (though I actually have one and love it) or any of that fancy stuff. I just need something a piece of foam that smells good and is soft. I’m a simple pillow person!
But if I’m gonna eat pillows, I need them to be stuffed with cool stuff like spiced pumpkin and mascarpone and lemon zest. Very important.
I live in this really magical place called Los Angeles, California.
It’s a place where you have to pay, like, $2 for parking to go to the mall. Even if you don’t buy anything.
It’s a place where people sitting next to you at coffee shops are writing movies on their laptops. And then those movies get made, you see them in the theater, and it’s weird and wild.
It’s a place where palm tress aren’t native to the state, yet they fit in perfectly.
And it’s a place where you see Janice Dickason at the movie theater, dressed like she’s going to the Met Ball, with a man who’s six inches shorter and looks like he might own the state of California. Very normal.
Los Angeles is a place of make believe. So, when it’s the first day of fall and 90 degrees outside, it forces you to pretend it’s brisk out, or else you’ll get mad. Because all anybody wants to do on the first day of fall–myself included–is break out their new boots, scarves, hold hands with the boy they like and jump in a big pile of autumn leaves. Am I right, or am I right? I’m right.
Yesterday, while cooking, I added some pepper to a bowl and sneezed. My friend Cassie, who was over at the time, paused and said, “Man, you make a very “interesting” face the moment just before you sneeze.” I’m pretty sure what she meant by “interesting” was “ugly.” So I started to think to myself, Are there other times when I look “interesting”? There must be!
Like, when I’m sleeping and my face just settles into dreamland, do I look unattractive? When I’m washing the dishes, in my own world, pondering what human name I’m going to give my future dog, does my face look unattractive?
And when I cry, do I have an ugly cry face like Kim Kardashian? (This, by far, is my favorite Kim K. moment. Actually, it’s more of Kourtney’s moment. I mean, the way Kourtney laughs at her? Incredible.) If Kim K. is the ugliest crier around, I’d like to nominate the prettiest. That award goes to Demi Moore in Ghost (skip to 1:39). Like, her eyes well up so perfectly, just the right amount of tears, before they overflow and fall so beautifully. Let’s all aspire to cry like that. UGH!
Anyway, surely the moment before sneezing can’t be the only ugly face I unknowingly make. When do you make your “interesting” face? It’s okay, don’t worry, we can’t look cute all the time.
Speaking of unattractive! This bread pudding. Bread pudding is bread pudding. It’s definitely not what I consider “pretty food.” When I pulled it out of the oven I took a look at it and was like, well let’s hope it tastes good. It did. OMG it did.
I’m freezing. Are you freezing?! I know I’m being sort of a child when I say I’m freezing. And yes, I do realize that 50˙F is amateur freezing weather. But it’s cold. I’m cold.
I got the sniffles this past weekend. I ran into Jeff Goldblum (my childhood crush) as I was sniffling…with no make-up…in sweats…as I was walking through Whole Foods. This happens in Los Angeles from time to time. It’s usually famous people I could care less about. But this time…whoa. It was Jeff Goldblum. As I walked past him, he said hello to me (!!!), probably because I couldn’t stop smiling. I tried. I just couldn’t. So I said hi back and then promptly did one of those run-walks to hide in the flour aisle.
And then I just imagined him getting eaten by that T-Rex as he was sitting on the toilet…chanting. I’ve had a crush on him ever since. I do realize that I’m now on an official tangent..and I do understand that my “crushes” are confusing and random. But…back to being cold!!
So yeah, when we’re cold…soup is in order.
I’ve been making renditions of this soup for years. It comes from one of my favorite Ina Garten books, Barefoot In Paris. It’s full of beautiful simple, French recipes that are perfect for the cold chilly weather.
Wrap a blanket around yourself, put on some cute socks and let’s make some soup!
Food exists for every occasion. Birthday cakes for birthdays (obvi). Casseroles for cold nights. Chicken soup to rid a cold. Bacon wrapped jalapeños for pot lucks. Cookies for the holidays. Salads for getting cute and healthy…and then…and then there’s heartbreak food.
You know…food for when your heart actually hurts. And you need something to hug you and tell you it’s gonna be okay. And tell you that it’s actually for the best. And that despite life being hard, good things are on their way. Because they are.
So yeah…there’s food for this occasion, too.
Chocolate pudding is pretty popular for this type of situation, as is a pint of ice cream while calling home to mom. Or the first row in a package of oreos. And maybe the second.
But I…I personally recommend pancakes. These specifically.
There’s carbs (requirement!), chocolate (double-requirement!), pumpkin (it’s fall), all while swimming in a pool of warm maple syrup (triple-requirement!).
Hi there! I have a request. Actually…it’s more like a favor.
I know this weekend you probably have some important things to do like errands or laundry or studying or organizing some closet you’ve been putting off.
I think you should blow it off. Yes, I’m telling you to be irresponsible.
Here’s the thing: we work too much, we run too many errands, we have too many to-do lists. Me included. But sometimes we have to put our foot down and choose fun. We gotta show our responsibilities who’s in charge in this relationship. And guess what…you are.