Jill and the Great Pumpkin (truffles)
In anticipation of Halloween, I decided to do something that terrified me: I was going to attempt to make some candy. It was also my roommate Paige’s birthday, and I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to avoid the awkward task of picking out a gift for someone you are newly friends with and … Continue reading
Eating out, or, The lazy hostess
For the past two weeks, I have had houseguests. Dad and sister and my boyfriend, Charlie, all needing to be fed, even if they’re not expecting anything gourmet. They know me, after all. I have aunts who act surprised when I tell them I make homemade tortilla soup. And that only requires adding corn, chicken, and salsa to chicken broth, heating and stirring. My aunt and her wife are ridiculously good cooks; they will often whip up a “quick” dinner of hand-breaded chicken parmesan with homemade tomato sauce, and fondue for dessert. No big deal.
So I had big plans for my dad and sister and boyfriend last week—lemon chicken parmesan (which is my go-to fancy-sounding food), pad Thai, and for breakfast, they’d wake up to warm blueberry cobbler. Both the pad Thai and blueberry cobbler I’d only attempted once before and both had failed. The first time I made pad Thai, I ended up with an inch of noodles and peanuts and other detritus stuck to the bottom of the pan, so I just called it “smoke-infused” and choked it down. I hadn’t made the blueberry cobbler since high school, when I forgot to thaw the blueberries first and ended up with a blueberry juice, sugar, and raw dough stew. I can’t imagine why I thought making them again was a good idea.
