Fresh Direct screwed something up in our last order, and they sent us two massive bunches of bananas. We’ve been making Bananas Foster practically daily, but we’ve reached the point where the bananas are nearly molten and it’s time to bake them into something. I was all set to make a recipe I’d found online from a trusted source, but the moment I started in on prep and I started to mash banana flesh, the scent transported me to another time and place.
posts tagged: recipes
I totally get all the cynicism around Valentine’s Day. I get it. Believe me, I hate Hallmark with a firey passion (in fact, I’ve not stepped foot in a Hallmark store since I worked on a book with them 10 years ago), and I don’t even like much chocolate or candy.
Mostly I think Valentine’s Day is funny. Its primary colors are pink and red—and I don’t even like the color pink. But because it’s so singular in its focus, and so completely absurd, I adore it. I always use it as a time to remind my friends and family that I love them—sure, I tell them a lot on a regular basis, but it’s more special today.
So with that, I wish you all lots of love from the bottom of my heart.
And because I’m no scrooge for sweets on Valentine’s day, I made strawberry ice cream for my sweetie, whose favorite ice cream is strawberry. I made this last year and it was so phenomenal, I’ve declared it a tradition that must not be broken.
I’m one of those people who gets sick after a stressful event. In college, I got sick on every visit home; for a while in Philly I was getting sick each weekend. I moved to New York, and the constant stress was such that I didn’t actually catch a cold until the week after I stopped working at my job. So after these past few weeks, in which I had a lot of fun but did a LOT, I’m now sick! And home on a Friday night, so I’m talking to you guys for the first time in ages.
I might not be a vegetarian, but I’m definitely aware of my eco-footprint. I might actually be one of those people who get smug satisfaction in the fact that I have never owned a car, that I walk or take public transportation (very rarely ride in cabs), that I recycle, etc. But really, I’m barely doing a fraction of what I could be, and Deborah Madison’s Local Flavors has me entertaining romantic fantasies of getting up early to head down to the Union Square Greenmarket every week, eating “Slow,” etc.